


I Killed America's Favorite Wizard

by Cactus_Lesbian



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe - Future, Anaphylaxis, Angus McDonald and Taako Bonding, Bureaucracy, Canon-Typical Death Shenanigans, Crying, Death Bureaucracy, Future Fic, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, Light Angst, Major Character Undeath, Marriage, Multi, Non-romantic slow burn, Parents Barry Bluejeans and Lup, Slow Burn, Theology, Wakes & Funerals, Weddings, What is a god? A miserable little pile of metaphors, clinical depictions of the decomposition process, discworld-esque rules about gods, he dies but it's fine, jokes about death and the circumstances thereof, light-hearted angst, non-graphic depictions of anaphylaxis
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:07:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 37,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26636323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cactus_Lesbian/pseuds/Cactus_Lesbian
Summary: The smell of something delicious emanated from the kitchen, as it usually did. But so did the usual smells of the job, not the too-sweet decay, or the chemicals, or rotting cabbage, but the early decomposition, the generally more unpleasant smells the average living person has to deal with. Their mixture was worse than the too-sweet, later-stage decay.He didn't need to psyche himself up before looking through the door. He'd had centuries to psyche himself up. He looked inside, to where the cats were padding across the counters, sniffing at a warm skillet and a half-drunk bottle of something orange. A familiar body was laying on the floor, and a familiar soul was standing above it.Kravitz sighed, and let his skeletal form melt into flesh. "Really, hon, this couldn't have waited for the paperwork to be sent through?"
Relationships: Angus McDonald & Taako, Barry Bluejeans/Lup, Istus & Kravitz (The Adventure Zone), Istus & Taako (The Adventure Zone), Istus/The Raven Queen (The Adventure Zone), Kravitz & The Raven Queen, Kravitz/Taako (The Adventure Zone), Lup & Taako (The Adventure Zone), The Raven Queen & Taako (The Adventure Zone)
Comments: 139
Kudos: 86
Collections: deific





	1. Stage .5: Coming to Terms in Advance

**Author's Note:**

> what is UP y'all apparently I have childhood TRAUMA revolving around DEATH so I'm doing a FANFIC about it. I'm a bit of a slow writer, and I have college stuff to do, so don't worry if I take a while between updates. I have almost everything plotted out, and I'm pretty excited to get to a lot of stuff.

Kravitz, despite being the Grim Reaper, didn't usually find time in his busy schedule to do any true reaping. Yes, as a reaper, he tended to the metaphorical fields of life, but it was in more of a pest-control or disease-prevention role than that of a harvest-man. He supposed, in this field metaphor, the grain was self-harvesting, and would sort itself into haystacks and grain piles without need of his help most of the time. It was a confusing analogy, and one only brought into popular cultural consensus because he used a scythe. Or perhaps he only used a scythe because of the metaphor being popular cultural consensus. It wouldn't be the first time an aesthetic choice was incorporated by the gods because of the mortals who served them, and who they served in return. Objectively, a scythe wasn't that good of a weapon. It wasn't meant to be used as one. His own blade was a scythe in name and appearance only, any self-respecting farmer would hardly need a look to tell it was the least-useful harvesting tool since safety scissors. A sword would be more efficient, and a hundred times cooler, or perhaps some sort of shear-like weapon, to be rid of the farm business entirely and cohesively tie the aesthetic to that of Istus and her strings. The Raven Queen and Istus had some remarkable potential for some really cool "death and fate as lovers" symbolism, but alas, despite their domain's similarities, they hadn't much connection in the realm of mortal practitioners, and it was them that ultimately had the final word on how gods worked.

He supposed a better metaphor would be that of a vast machine, everything automated, but with malfunctions and breakages to locate and repair, with his weapon being a hammer, or whatever remarkable tool it was those engineering, mechanically-minded types utilized to do their strange, incomprehensible craft. But on the other hand, that analogy didn't do much justice to the rich decision-making capabilities of the mortals he met in his line of work. Treating them like loose cogs was a disservice, even to the most devilish of death criminals.

He supposed any metaphor couldn't do justice to explain the complicated and ever-changing arrangement of life and death. Not complicated in an integral way, people lose consciousness, and that's all it is, he learned that early-on. But somehow, at some point in time, people started thinking about what happened afterwards, or thinking of beings that heralded or represented death, and by virtue of their belief and perspective, it became true. It helped, to explain the unknowable using something familiar. To give a face and name to a concept as incomprehensible as death. It inspired some truly stellar artwork. Kravitz would be lying if he said he didn't have a Hugo Simberg print or two hung up in his office. Double lying if he said he'd never Unearthly Chorused some _Dies Irae_ during his particularly dramatic battles.

All tangents related to his own symbolic significance aside, he wasn't one to show up at the bedside of random dying strangers with zero connection to any death crimes. Plenty of mortals thought or hoped he did, but they held little proof, as anyone to see him would presumably not be able to tell anyone. He really only showed up when there was some massively-fatal disaster going on, or if a disagreeable rich person was exhibiting some moral failing and he felt a spooky omen was in order. These activities hadn't been in his job description at the start of his time working for the Raven Queen all those centuries ago. He started doing them one day to spice things up, and now he did them on impulse, with almost the same tug on his chest he got whenever there was a lich in the area to deal with. The extra jobs took up more than a bit of his time, but that hadn't bothered him before the last five years of what he was now calling his life.

How novel, to have a life. He'd had one before, of course, long ago. There was a period of time when he was mortal, brief, in the grand scheme of his existence, but fundamental, like an infancy. For a while, whether or not he called his continued undead existence a "life" deepened on how morose he was feeling. He made sure to combat the ennui and toil of being an ex-person, making a strict point to use only his skeletal form during every work-related excursion, making the unconventional decision to go by his human name, making time to keep up with mundane hobbies, indulging in the odd gamble, taking time to redirect innocents caught in the middle of his work, doing little asides while on bounties to amuse himself.

Nothing compared to these last five years. Having friends was so profoundly novel he wondered if he'd had any before, in his mortality. Having physical objects, all to himself, was an indulgence so human it could make his blood run just to wear a tangible watch or necklace. Having a fiance was a novelty he shared. It was being asked when the big day was, and sharing a look, because they didn't have an answer, and neither wanted there to be one just yet. It was having commitment to each other, and not feeling like they needed to share or prove it to anyone else. It was having someone to come home to, an incentive to stop his instinctual habit of working himself to the (pardon the pun) bone.

He could feel before he made the portal, this was not a bounty, not a mission that would end in violence. This was the pull of a lost or confused soul. Despite popular belief, especially young or especially old souls were not more susceptible to becoming lost after death. No matter how generally lost or confused in one's time as a mortal, there was a pull to the astral sea that was easy to find and be swept into, if one hadn't meddled too much in plane-walking or soul-tampering. Lost souls tended to be mages or clerics, people who still had the strong inherent connection to the astral plane on account of being mortal, but who also had conflicting affiliations with the other planes. Errands like these were usually peaceful, but could get tedious when, say, someone on the divine plane said they had a stronger claim to a soul, and he'd need to testify in front of a lot of important people about precedents surrounding being excused from the astral sea, and someone would stand up and try to appeal to some emotional part of the court... It was just altogether unpleasant.

So, he was fully expecting and prepared for a wizened oracle who'd had too many chances to use True Sight, or a genasi caught in a post-mortem custody battle. Given the time to think it over, he could have thought up a transmutation wizard with a propensity to cast Blink to get out of his problems. What he was not expecting was a familiar living room, with a fuzzy couch covered in sequin pillows and an amateur, but lovely attempt at a quilt, and an absurdly tall black velvet wing back armchair. Or the familiar patter and click of cats coming to welcome him, one short-haired and orange, one small and tuxedo-patterned, one mismatched, skeletal, and probably possessed by some kind of poltergeist, each swirling around his legs in greeting. The skeletal one in particular grinding their teeth and clicking their ribs in their version of an urgent meow. Kravitz scritched Fluffy's smooth head with his own skeletal hand, and they playfully tried and failed to assimilate one of his distal phalanges, before running off with Miss Midnight Banshee and Cham _purr_ ado, both flesh-cats' ears piqued in concern.

He followed them. His face was unconsciously still a skull, for some sense of normalcy. Funny how such a familiar place can feel so alien in certain circumstances. Funny, but not terribly frightening. Make no mistake, he was uncomfortable, maybe even worried, but he could never be scared of himself.

He followed the cats to the hallway, past photographs in gaudy, hand-painted frames. His scythe was a bit too big for how narrow it was, but he easily willed it to be less corporeal. He'd lost sight of the cats, them being so fast, but he could hear them in the kitchen. Had be been mortal, or maybe a few centuries less experienced in his line of work, he may have deluded himself into thinking there had been some home break-in his darling fiance dealt with in there, or that the kitchen was already haunted when they'd bought the house, and it somehow managed to escape the notice of the three reapers that regularly passed through it. He was separated from optimism and pessimism in this regard. He'd long since learned, he never waited for anything, just as the hurricane does not wait for pedestrians to get indoors. He was not the end of a story, he was the fire that consumed unfinished manuscript pages while no one was looking. He was a lot of metaphors, too many to list off. Still, it would have been nice to get married before the inevitable. Easier to change last names and get a certificate when at least one of you isn't legally deceased.

The smell of something delicious emanated from the kitchen, as it usually did. But so did the usual smells of the job, not the too-sweet decay, or the chemicals, or rotting cabbage, but the early decomposition, the generally more unpleasant smells the average living person has to deal with. Their mixture was worse than the too-sweet, later-stage decay.

He didn't need to psyche himself up before looking through the door. He'd had centuries to psyche himself up. He looked inside, to where the cats were padding across the counters, sniffing at a warm skillet and a half-drunk bottle of something orange. A familiar body was laying on the floor, and a familiar soul was standing above it.

Kravitz sighed, and let his skeletal form melt into flesh. "Really, hon, this couldn't have waited for the paperwork to be sent through?"


	2. Stage 1: Jumping Straight to Acceptance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A BODY HAS BEEN DISCOVERED  
> so, i'm not an expert, or even experienced in body decomposition, but it was a major special interest of mine when i was eleven, and that's like the next best thing.  
> Content Warning for some brief, middlingly-graphic descriptions of decomposition! it's before the 12-hour mark, so there's nothing especially gross or gory, but there is livor mortis, and early rigor mortis.  
> less-gory content warning for these idiots not grieving AT ALL, and for the objectification of a corpse.

All souls are unique in the way that all stars are unique. To the uneducated naked eye, they all look like randomly placed specks of light of varying sizes. Even to the educated naked eye, it is difficult to differentiate between any two stars without relying on their placement in relation to others. Kravitz, however, was both knowledgeable in most things soul-related, and gifted with some handy sight-enhancing features. While using his human eyes, souls looked like balls of light, the way they looked to most mortals. With the pinpricks of light in his reaper form's eye sockets, which may or may not have been eyes, he could see past the bright glare a soul emitted, and make out tiny details, the constellations of clustered neurons that made up a person. Taako was a wonderful cluster to look at, he decided. Taako was also a wonderful flickering facsimile of his former body to look at. He was switching between the two seemingly at random. Kravitz couldn't tell if it was something to do with his eyes, or with Taako's soul.

"Hey, uh... Hey, babe. Didn't know you'd be off work so soon."

"I'm not off work," Kravitz said as he let his scythe re-assimilate into his body. Perhaps Kravitz should be quietly devastated, constructing a mask to cover the slurry of fear, sorrow, and shock that he could never remember the texture of, despite having lived with it, once. He was nothing if not professional. There was no sense in being sad about what he saw, and caused, and was, every day he went to work. He would admit to a twinge of exasperation, though, as he wasn't completely heartless. It was the same kind of soft exasperation he felt whenever Taako forgot to sleep because he was seized by the sudden urge to make a croquembouche at ten pm, or brought home a scrappy flea-condo of a stray tuxedo cat, or when he decided the perfect name for said cat would be Great Mini Citrus With Mango Salsa Pavlova. (They'd settled on "Miss Midnight Banshee" after the first night she stayed with them.)

"Oh. So like, just for confirmation here, am I dead?"

Kravitz considered this with a tilt to his head. "That very much depends on which definition of 'death' you're working off, darling. You certainly went through death as an _action,_ but death as a state of being is... different. I can see your consciousness seems to still be kicking around, but your body is definitely..." Kravitz grimaced, gesturing at the unmoving form that was not Taako. There was no such thing as a clean, unblemished corpse. He was suddenly acutely thankful that Taako kept the kitchen so clean, so there was no need to go through the effort of batting away so many flies.

"Cool, cool. Dang. Well. Least I'm not all _itchy_ anymore. Thought that'd never end. You know, this isn't even the first time I've died because of my-immune-system-fuckin'-hates-me-itis, and it's _still_ the worst way to go out. Skin's worse than Barry's after staying a week in the desert without sunscreen." Taako kicked at the body, his foot going straight through it. "Still smokin' though, I'm sure."

Kravitz smiled. "One of the prettier corpses I've seen in my time, yes. It's a shame about the bile..." He knelt down, resting the back of his hand on the body's forehead. It was still a bit warm, not nearly warm enough to pass for living, but not as cold as Kravitz occasionally got. Only a few hours, then. "Do you mind if I check this over? It's routine."

Taako shrugged. "Go for it, doll. You're like the only person I know that I trust to check it over." The body lay on its back. Its eyes were wide open, and pretty dry at this point. Maybe it was because his "face was a skull half the time," but Kravitz didn't really see the eyes as "windows to the soul." Or maybe because he didn't need any window to see someone's soul. Gently as he could, Kravitz lifted the body's loose blouse to look at the back, and sure enough, purple-ish patterns blotted the skin like bruises. Very specific bruises that neatly lined up with the shirt's folds and the kitchen floor's tiles. "I hope the wait wasn't too long."

Taako looked like he desperately wanted to casually lean an arm on the counter, but wasn't too sure if he was allowed to. He casually crossed his arms instead. "Nah, you're fine. Didn't really notice. Time's... weird, here, isn't it?"

Kravitz nodded. "You get used to it. A bit of a pain, learning how the world works all over again." He checked the jaw. It was swollen, like the rest of the face and neck, and noticeably stiff. "But it's all a part of the process. You wouldn't happen to be any kind of organ donor, would you? Because there's a pretty narrow window of time for harvesting most of these things."

"Nah, man, I'm not sharing with anybody. That's property of the Taako Brand right there. Also, I'm literally an alien, so... I don't think I'd be genetically compatible with most folks."

Kravitz set the body back in its original position on the floor, and stood up, wiping invisible grime onto his jacket. "That makes sense. I suppose we should call your sister and brother-in-law. They'll want to know about this."

Taako scrutinized him for a moment, a slight smile in the corners of his mouth. "You're taking this surprisingly well, huh? And you're kinda... letting me take this surprisingly well? If that makes sense? Like, it's not a big deal, right? You'd tell me if you were masking for my sake."

"Would you rather I go through the whole grief counselor spiel?" Kravitz affected a truly awful posh accent. "Oh, Taako, I'm so _sorry_ for your loss. It's natural to not feel anything for a while, you know, shock is a perfectly valid response to something as terrible as this. You know, there's no 'right' way to grieve. If you need to talk to _anyone-"_

Taako groaned, trying and failing to hold back laughter. "Oh my god, _stop,_ you sound like _Brad._ I'm getting fuckin' flashbacks to Grammi's wake. 'Oh, this must be so _hard_ for you kids. I'm so _sorry_ for your _loss._ We're gonna do fuck-all about it but spew vague, hollow bullshit.'" He exhaled sharply through his nose. "Like, we were living with her, we knew she was gonna die. Or, sorry ' _pass away.'_ Fantasy christ." Taako was consistently looking more and more like a traditional ghost, a transparent, glowing version of what he looked like in life. Just like the body, there was a process to go through with the soul. "Anyway. Pretty _swell_ to see you. Ha. Y'know, 'cause of my face. Prolly coulda led with that." He nudged the body's leg again, still not making any real contact. He looked wistfully at the skillet resting on the (thankfully turned off) stove. "Think I can still eat? Like this? I don't want my goulash to go to waste."

Kravitz inconspicuously inspected the delectable-looking contents of the skillet, needing to shoo away a curiously sniffing Fluffy as he did. "Well, _I_ can still eat, can't I? And according to some definitions, I'm deader than you are."

"That you are, I guess. Except you know how to make your weird soul-exoskeleton feel more like a meatsuit. Is that a reaper thing, or can I do that?"

Kravitz suddenly felt the need to fiddle with the down lining on his coat. "I suppose so. Not a lot of body-less souls stay on the material plane long enough to try."

Ah, right, that's why death was so sad for most people. Because it was the denial of any future with a loved one. It was supposed to be sad because Taako going on a month-long tour to promote his new cookbook was sad. Except this was permanent. If permanence was frightening for mortals, it was terrifyingly incomprehensible for people like them. It wasn't sad or scary for the deceased, of course. They were too busy eternally napping in the sea of souls to feel much of anything.

Taako made a vague little gesture with his hands, as he was wont to do. "I guess- can i... still touch you? Am I corporeal? Like this?"

Kravitz shrugged. "You're here. Corporeal, non-corporeal, it all depends on what you're surrounded by."

"That's not an answer, bone-man. Now _you're_ just spewing vague, hollow bullshit."

Kravitz lifted a hand to his chest in mock-indignation. "My vague bullshit always comes fully intoned straight from the heart." He lowered the hand, taking a cautious step towards sincerity. "But, I think you can. If you believe in what you're doing. That sounded cheesy. I mean... what is touch if not a signal your brain gives itself? And right now, you're nothing but brain signals."

"Okay. I'm just gonna go for it and if it works, it works." A lesser elf probably would have patted Kravitz's shoulder first as a practice test, but Taako apparently wasn't feeling that today. So Kravitz suddenly, but not very startlingly, found himself with an armful of ghost, with a chin resting on his shoulder. It wasn't much of an embrace, as it was Taako just sort of bodily leaning on Kravitz's front with no work from his arms, but it was closeness and touch, and that was enough for them.

Holding Taako's soul was much like holding any other soul, not too difficult a task despite its lack of corporeality in the traditional sense, and fizzing with electricity that might've hurt if he'd gone through the effort of giving himself pain receptors that day. Otherwise, it was no different from the countless other times he'd held Taako in this very way. He rested a hand in Taako's hair, pulling him even closer. Kravitz could smell his vanilla shampoo as clearly as he could that morning. It was funny, what did and didn't carry over to someone's ghost. They stayed still for a moment, soaking each other in. He hated to break the silence, but alas, there were things to do. "We're going to have to tell everyone."

Taako let out a whine. "Not _everyone,_ right?"

Kravitz inhaled gently, rubbing his hand in circles just under the back of Taako's neck. "Maybe not the whole world, at least not so soon. Your family, though, your friends, they deserve to know, if only to figure out the logistics."

Taako buried his face deeper into Kravitz's shoulder. "The masses are gonna be wild. M' story was supposed to be _over with,_ I was doing better without it. Already got my happy epilogue. Now there's something _new_ to latch onto."

"So, don't tell the general public. Lup and Barry?"

"Lup's got creepy death powers on top of twin-sense. She probably already knows."

Kravitz chuckled, a deep, vibrating sound that made Taako press closer to his front. "I've seen Lup in the field. I think you're deeply overestimating the handle she has on her 'creepy death powers.'"

"Hm. Yeah, we'll have to tell them. And Merle, and Magnus, and Ren, and Cap'n..."

"And Angus?"

Taako stiffened, hands clutching the front of Kravitz's vest. He said nothing for a while. "Y-yeah. Sure. He's a grown kid. He can handle it. Fuck, he's handled it before." Taako's eyes were shifting between two invisible targets. Kravitz could feel him getting warmer to the touch like an old light bulb left on too long. He carefully decided not to mention bringing up his death to Lup and Barry's soon-to-be children, young Vinren and Davron.

"But that can wait. Do you have any idea what killed you?"

Taako partially exited the embrace, keeping a hand curled on Kravitz's lapel. "Well, it was either some allergy I didn't know I had, an allergy I spontaneously developed in my old age, or it was something to do with my old enemy and most forbidden of fruits: peanuts."

"Ah. Could it be the goulash?"

"No, I made that myself, I would've realized I put the one thing I'm allergic to in there. Speaking of, can you shovel that into a container for me? I have a feeling I'm not gonna get to have my lunch today."

"Of course, darling." Kravitz set to it while Taako made his way to the half-drunk bottle on the counter, idly running his hand over Miss Midnight Banshee's spine as he went. Kravitz had to keep nudging Cam _purr_ ado and Fluffy out of the way of his task. None of the cats were in the habit of eating human food, they were far too picky for that, not to mention one of them physically couldn't eat much of anything, but they would gladly shove a full skillet off of the stove, given enough of a chance.

Taako was inspecting the bottle with a scrutiny he usually reserved for ninth-level spells and for selecting a perfect watermelon. "Hey, Krav, can you taste this for me? It's torito." Kravitz scooped the last of the goulash into the container and set it in the fridge. He accepted the drink, smelling it first, and pulled a dubious face at Taako. "Humor me. It's not poisoned, I know that stuff tastes terrible." Kravitz took a sip, closing his eyes to parse the flavor. He carefully set the bottle in its original spot on the counter.

"Taako," he said. "Why did you buy and drink a peanut-flavored cocktail?"

Taako held up a finger. "Swear on my lack of life, I thought it was mango." He shrugged. "Not like I can taste it. Key lime all the time, baby."

He tsked (mostly) performatively. "I told you it would come back to haunt you someday. You could've gotten that curse broken."

"And I told you, I was the one who cursed myself, and there's nobody in the planar-verse that can undo a Fully Loaded Taako Original™."

Kravitz flicked a ghostly stray hair away from Taako's face. "You're inexorable."

"Why, thank you, kind sir."

Kravitz sighed. "Well, that's sorted. Shall we take this handsome husk somewhere it won't pose as much of a contamination risk?"

"Yeah. Uh, lemme try-" The body and general dead-person-waste was encased in a bubble of magic and began hovering a few feet above the ground. "Hell yeah, still got it." He used a few Prestidigitations to clean up as much as he could. "Should we take this to the basement? Pretty sure there's a body fridge down there from when Lup and Barry lived here."

"There's a-? Mnff. Yeah, okay, there might as well be."

It took a bit of finagling, but they managed to get the body into the basement without breaking its protective bubble. It wasn't that much different from floating a coffee table downstairs. "'Y'know, in... I wanna say... cycle 45, every food had little lists of ingredients on them. 'Expiration dates,' too. Useful as fuck. _None_ of us got food poisoning the entire time we were there. Know how hard that is to do when you're so unfamiliar with the local cuisine that you can't tell if something's _supposed_ to be mushy or not?"

Kravitz nodded, opening the basement door, always ready to catch the body should it pitch over from the steep angle they currently had it positioned in. "That sounds useful. You could sue the drinks company for not doing that, turn it into a trend on this plane. Call it 'Taako's Law.'"

With one smooth movement, Taako gestured with his hands so the body fully entered the basement, floating parallel to the floor. "I'm pretty sure there's already a 'Taako's Law.'"

Kravitz opened the metal, locker-esque fridge, which lay in an unassuming shadowy corner. Careful not to disturb the small neighborhood of spiderwebs that had settled around it, he found and flicked the "on" switch, making the interior light up with pre-programmed preservation spells. Taako pushed the floating body to the fridge, turning it slightly so it could lay right-side-up, on its back. It didn't matter, of course. He wouldn't see it, and the corpse wouldn't care, but it would feel neater.

Taako stepped back and took a second to look over the body, with its unblinking golden eyes, and its red, swollen neck and face, and its discolored hands.

"Fuck, that was like... me, huh? Weird." He closed the metal door with a _clang_ and flipped the latch closed. "We gonna head to the astral plane, now? Check in with Lup?"

"Yes, just, um, you don't feel any kind of... pull, do you?"

Taako blinked at him. "No, I don't think so."

Kravitz considered this as he extended his arm, willing the bit of his soul that was his signature scythe to become manifest in his hand. "Alright. Hold on to me, try not to let go." Taako hooked his elbow through Kravitz's arm as the portal was opened, and together, they stepped through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Addendum: so halcyonhowl on tumblr wrote a very good very fascinating piece on how a soul is like a star, ( https://halcyonhowl.tumblr.com/post/189124283768/souls-are-like-stars ) and i was already done writing this chapter before i even knew that post existed! just a fun little instance of separate people having similar ideas :)  
> i thrive on feedback!! give me your 250 words on what taako's key lime curse represents in the comments!!


	3. Stage 2: Cancelling Plans/Stage 3: Making Plans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lup's in this one!! we're really getting into the foreshadowing now! a little bit of a longer chapter!

And there was Lup, in all her mom-jeans, chunky-jewelry glory. Whilst Kravitz was off who-knows-where, she was in the center of the empty courtyard of the Astral Palace. It wasn't much of a palace in the traditional sense, just as the Raven Queen was not a monarch in the traditional sense, and not just because of the aesthetic. It was like a fairy tale palace, a beautiful setting where all manner of drama happened, but lacking in any sort of political significance.

Ultimately, it was a place for very young reapers, those who hadn't yet felt the instinctual pull to reaper work, who were still mortal in their ways. It was a place for them to congregate and train, and to do the occasional team building activity, away from the more morose old reapers. Keeping morale up was the main way to prevent reapers from succumbing to the existentially terrifying possibility of literally becoming one's work. Lup found it hard to imagine she could ever succumb to such a thing. She'd stayed stable as a lich trapped in an umbrella for ten years, she knew how to maintain her personhood. Same thing went for Barry, there was no way they, working together, keeping a house on the material plane, having occasional in-person meetings with their boss instead of just willing their thoughts directly to her, along with all the little things they did to keep work and life separate, would lose themselves like that. Besides, they were already symbols of love, family, perseverance, and all that jazz in the material plane. Lup was pretty sure you couldn't be a living symbol of two disparate things, sprung from two different events, at once.

She was in the center of an inlaid stone circle, which might have been a sundial if any kind of light came from the sky. In front of her was a strange cubical device with a cord attached to it, running to a button in her hand. Both her spellbook (a three-ring Fantasy Lisa Frank binder with a glittery, garishly-colored depiction of a big-eyed baby tarasque sitting among a wreath of similarly-garish flower bushes, which Lup had modified heavily with various skeleton and fire-based stickers) and a borrowed abjuration theory textbook were open on the ground by her side. Their pages were flipped to passages on Mental Barrier. Vinnie's psionic abilities seemed to be growing stronger every day. They'd known she'd always had difficulty with unintentional mind-reading and such when they'd made the decision to adopt her and her little brother. Barry'd had to start homeschooling her to avoid the noise of other children's thoughts. It wasn't as much of an invasion of privacy as it could be, for Vinnie was the equivalent of illiterate in mind-reading, all she got from it were waves of vague brain activity and the occasional feeling. It was just uncomfortable and exhausting for her, most of the time, but with too many people in the same room as her, it could lead to a terrible migraine.

The easier, probably more effective spell to work on would be Dispel Magic, but Lup had been on the opposite side of Dispel Magic plenty of times. It was never fun to have a tight cap put on her magic, to have an unfinished spell tingle and burn under her skin like she was a shaken up bottle of soda. So, she and Barry would work on their Mental Barriers until they worked out a helpful, healthy way to release Vinnie's energy.

She pressed the button in her hand, and the cube-device lit up. She took a breath, bracing herself against the harmless, but uncomfortable pull of psychic waves, bouncing from one foot to the other to center her focus, and, taking one last glance at the incantation in her spellbook, she cast an invisible barrier of looping thoughts surrounding her head. It wasn't the most ideal solution, as it didn't stop any mind reading as much as it made what was read into something less chaotic, but Vinnie professed that it helped. Lup would have to scour more books for some form of Mental Barrier that had more of a dampening or silencing effect.

She kept it up for a good two minutes, before she heard quiet, unsure footsteps coming from behind her. She whirled around clicking off the device as she did. There stood a short human woman, probably in her mid-thirties, in a sharp black three-piece suit. She was glancing around at the high walls surrounding the courtyard, the ravens perched like gargoyles on decorative ledges, the shrubs that stayed perfectly trimmed until someone realized no one had trimmed them in a while. She glanced at Lup, too, of course, it was hard not to. "Howdy!" Lup gave the visitor a casual salute. "Haven't seen you around here before. Are you new?"

The woman startled, and started to unconsciously smooth down her tie. "Uh, yeah. I am. I, um, just got here. I-" Her eyes widened as she focused more on Lup's face. "You... you're Lup?"

Lup graced her with a smile and shallow bow. "In the flesh. What can I do for you?"

The woman blinked, then glanced at one of the ravens perched on a windowsill two stories up, eyebrows furrowed. "I, uh..." She brought a hand to her mouth in thought, mumbled something unintelligible. Suddenly, a spark of clarity came to her face. "The-The Raven Queen, she's here, right? I'm dead?"

"Well, second question first: that depends on your definition of 'death.' But, in the sense of the word you're probably thinking, yeah, you're Deffo Dearly Departed. Welcome to the club. First question, yeah? She's-" Lup gestured around the courtyard. "- _here._ Somewhere. Everywhere. Gods are weird. If you want to talk to her construct, you're gonna have to visit the throne room." She paused, thought something over. "If you're _this_ new, you probably should have automatically materialized there."

The woman continued to fidget, this time picking at her cufflinks. "Hm. Ah, does the throne room have any... divine, or arcane significance? Is the Raven Queen bound to it?"

"Nah, it's just a really cool place. But, hey, isn't _that_ divine in it's own right? Anyway." She pointed at one of the courtyard's archway entrances. "Down there, first door on the left."

The woman nodded. "Thank you."

The throne room wasn't exactly down that hallway, of course. It wasn't really anywhere, down any hallway, in any direction. She could have told her it was on the highest tower of the palace, and that to get into it, one must collect the griffon's three magic staffs to open the gilded gate to get the crystalline keys, and it would have worked for directions, but she wasn't feeling it today.

As the woman vanished through the archway, a sound like ripping fabric echoed beside her, accompanied by the blade of a familiar scythe appearing out of thin air. She stepped out of the way (an arm's length, per company policy) to let the blade tear through space, and make a portal from wherever it was Kravitz was coming from. She prepared to greet him with a surprise hearty thump on the back, revel in the fact he never prepared himself for it no matter how many times she snuck one on him, but found an extra person step out of the portal with him.

His face shifted and flickered every so often, from the one nearly identical to Lup's, to the less-familiar, newer face then back again before she could blink. It was a similar, more drastic situation with his clothes. One moment he'd be wearing long, formal wizardry robes and a silk hat, the kind he wore to fancy academic events, and the next he'd be wearing his iconic magenta star pattern footie pajamas. "Taako?"

His ears perked up, and when he met her eye, his outfit melted into a familiar ragged, but stylish travel ensemble, and his face seemed somehow even more like Lup's than it was normally, while still being Taako's. "Uh, yeah. Hi, Lup." He waved a bit sheepishly.

Lup looked from Kravitz to the oddly transparent, shifting Taako. "What's going on here? Was it 'bring your fiance's soul to work day' and I didn't get the memo?"

Kravitz inhaled, pursing his lips. "Do you want to tell her?"

"Tell me what?" She looked from her brother to her kind-of-boss with squinting eyes.

Taako nodded, putting a hand on Kravitz's shoulder. "So... I kinda died."

"Godsdammit, Taako."

"Listen! How was I supposed to know the torito's most popular flavor was peanut? Peanuts don't usually go in drinks!"

"You didn't _check it, maybe?"_

"That's what I said!"

Taako crossed his arms, huffing dramatically. "No respect for the deceased around here. If I had written either of you in my will, you would be out of it now."

(Taako's will was written on a page of one of his spellbooks, a copy of _Chicken Soup for the Teen Arcane Trickster's Soul_ he'd picked up at a thrift shop and started writing in the margins of. It was a page of a probably very touching story about a young goliath struggling against her parent's wishes of becoming a barbarian, which Taako, of course, had never read. It was the same page where he at some point scrawled _"save cat hair for Enhance Ability"_ and _"do NOT use lube as Grease spell component."_ In the very top margin, in the inch of blank space, he'd carefully written _"If I, Taako Taaco (Kravitz's last name (???)) beef it anytime soon, literally everything goes to Lup. I mean everything. You can't claim she's dead, she has a real body, and real magic she can use to fight you on this. If she doesn't want anything because she's blind to taste, or she's somehow dead for real now, I leave everything to my only decent child, who I trust to be neither an intentional menace nor a dumbass, Miss Midnight Banshee. Yeah, that's right, we're doing the Aristocats thing now.")_

"Alright, so what was the plan? Have Taako become a reaper, too? Do the Julia island thing?"

"The what?"

"Shh, Taako, it's a surprise."

Kravitz piped up. "I need to check something." He put a hand on Taako's shoulder. "Can you feel _any_ kind of 'pull' on your soul here? Any at all?"

Taako shrugged. "Just the ceaseless pull of gravity, my dude. Oh, shit, wait, can I fly now?"

"Well, yeah, you probably can, but-"

Taako immediately started floating. Lup saw his form switch to a funky thrift-store-grandma ensemble with a hat brim wide enough to block out the sun. "Fuck yeah, I'm never walking again! Good- _bye,_ bone-hurtin' legs!"

Kravitz shook his head, smiling fondly. "-But a spirit not feeling the pull of the Sea of Souls while they're in the Astral Plane, that's practically unheard of. I think..." He rubbed his chin. "I think we need to go see Todd."

Lup groaned. "Not _Todd."_

Kravitz sighed. "I know, Lup, but there's really no one else I can think of that has any jurisdiction over this sort of thing."

"But he's so..." Lup gestured, face screwed up.

"Okay, I'll bite," Taako said. "Who's Todd?"

"He's like if -fucking- Lucas Miller was an accountant. He's the kind of guy we could have pickpocketed when we were five, and he wouldn't even notice until he got home. He's the fuckin'... token cishet of the office."

Kravitz exhaled sharply. "Todd is involved in the more... clerical side of the Astral Plane. Paperwork and all that." The desk work of the Astral Plane was a ridiculously new addition, at only a few decades old. Some said it was Todd himself that introduced it to the workplace, and it hadn't gone away since. "He keeps track of all souls' comings and goings, makes sure everyone is accounted for. He has a file on every mortal soul, he should have one on you."

Lup wrinkled her nose. "Oh, jeez, does he have one on me?"

"Yeah, obviously. Look, Todd may be a little... tedious... to talk to, but he knows what he's doing. I think. And, ah, we should bring Barry along, too. And maybe the rest of your family. Something's... off."

"Oh, yeah, they should probably know about my current, uh, state of mortality."

"You didn't tell them yet?" Lup asked, cocking her head to the side.

"Listen, I died like an hour ago. I don't need to give everyone constant running updates on my life. And lack thereof."

Lup hummed in thought. "If Barry's coming here, we'll need a babysitter for Vinnie and Dav."

"Isn't Vinnie, like, eight?" Taako asked, eyebrow raised.

"Yeah, apparently kids still need a babysitter at eight? Healthy childhoods are wild. Oh, don't you have like... a graduation ceremony coming up? Do you need to cancel that?"

Taako groaned. "Shit, you're right. I think I can call Ren for that? Do stones of farspeech work for ghosts?"

"No, I'm afraid not," Kravitz said. "Stones of farspeech weren't exactly made with non-corporeal beings in mind. It just sounds like a bunch of interference."

"Okay. Lup, you can call Ren. Krav can get Barry. Barry and Krav can get the rest of the crew."

Lup gave him a thumbs-up, pulling out her stone. "Sounds like a plan."

Kravitz subtly ushered Taako to his side. He held Taako's hand in his, running a thumb over Taako's knuckles. "Should I get Angus, too?" he asked quietly. _Shoot,_ Taako thought.

"Shoot," Taako said. "Ain't that just the million dollar question. Uh..." He rocked from heel to toe, steepled hands pressed to his mouth. "No. No, I'll be the first to tell him in person. In the flesh. Or not-flesh, as it is." He'd said 'in the flesh' for the express purpose of immediately contradicting himself, and it really showed, but he was a bit too heavy-headed to worry about that right now. Given the time, Angus was probably still in class. Taako didn't want to distract him from that, even if he wasn't learning much he didn't already know in Lucas's nerd school. "Eventually. When shit's less chaotic. He's got finals to worry about. Just get the rest of the crew."

Kravitz squeezed Taako's hand. "If you say so." He gripped the handle of his scythe, and cut a tear in space to Lup and Barry's house, in the same neighborhood as their own. "I love you. See you soon."

He gave a mock-salute. "Love you, too, babe." Kravitz disappeared behind the closing portal. Lup waved him over to a stone bench, which he managed to find the most ostentatious way of flying over to. Lup shoved his arm when he finally settled next to her.

"Alright," Lup said. "I've got Ren's frequency ready."

"Put it on speaker stone, I gotta hear this."

It rang a few times before it clicked on. "Hello, you've reached Taako's Amazing School of Magic, this is Ren speaking."

"Hey, Ren, love to hear ya. It's Lup. Uh... Could you possibly just cancel, like, _all_ of Taako's future appointments? And public appearances?"

"Fantasy Jesus," Ren exhaled, mostly to herself. There was a shuffling of papers. "Alright. Maybe. Do I wanna know why Taako can't make it to his _own school's_ graduation?"

"Um..." Lup looked to Taako, who shrugged noncommittally. She considered the situation. People outside their immediate friend circle got a little weird about their death shenanigans. Maybe it was being exposed to her own mortality at such a young age, maybe it was the twenty-plus times she'd died and been fine, but she, and maybe some of the rest of the crew, had kind of drifted away from the general consensus about death being something to have hang-ups about. Or maybe the fact she didn't have any hang-ups about death was, itself, a hang-up. Anyway, it was exhausting and kind of annoying to be fawned over as a relative of the deceased, even in the cases when people were being genuine.

Then she remembered Ren had probably died more times than everyone on the Starblaster combined. "So, Taako's kinda dead, but he's fine."

Lup could practically hear Ren rub an exasperated hand over her face. She heard the creak of an office chair leaning back a bit farther than was appropriate in a place of work. "What- Okay. Yeah, that tracks. What... _kind_ of dead? Did he cave in to peer pressure and become a lich? Is his body, just, empty? Oh, have you checked the ethereal plane? Sometimes he fucks off to the ethereal plane."

"Nah, fam, he's like, _dead_ dead. But only.. Like, he's kind of a... ghost?"

"I think I prefer the term 'spirit,'" Taako mused.

"Or 'spirit,' as he just said. He's with me right now. He can't do stones in the 'spirit state,' but-"

"Know what? Go back to 'ghost,' it sounds spookier."

"Fine, fucking, 'ghost state,' but he's still bringing that stellar personality. Which kinda solves the worst part of someone dying! So, yeah, he's all good, we're gonna get this all figured out. But in the meantime, worldly responsibilities are off the table. Uh, also, maybe... _don't_ tell the press?" Lup glanced at Taako for confirmation.

He gave a thumbs up. "Good instincts there. If this gets out, I'll be socially dead, too."

More papers shuffled on Ren's end of the line. "I won't tell the public, that's for sure. What about his students, though? Should I just arrange for a substitute until further notice? Should I tell the staff?"

Lup raised her eyebrows at Taako. He was now dressed in an expensive, accessory-heavy Miss Frizzle outfit.

"Aw geez. Uh - yeah, don't tell the staff, get the kids a substitute. Make sure it's not Mr. Mahoney, though, he's blood in the water for anyone over the age of ten. And make sure they know to give Leslie Farfoot an extension on her homework, she's going through some family stuff. And that Dylan the Eternal doesn't need a hall pass to go to the bathroom or get a drink from the water fountain. It's a brass dragon thing."

As she was wont to do these days, Lup gave him a _look_ that was half pride in her brother's ability to her brother's ability to make any kind of emotional connection, half knowing judgmental smirk.

"Shut up."

"I didn't say anything, Koko. Yeah, Ren, Taako says don't tell anyone, and get a substitute."

"Okay, I'll get Mrs. Steelhoof. She's worked with Taako's class before, she's one of the better wizard teachers we have here."

"Hell yeah, Ren. Look at you, being competent as fuck," Taako murmured.

"Okay, anything else? Just need someone to take care of business on this mortal coil while you get your shit together?"

"Yes, please, that'd be great. Thanks, Ren, Taako owes you one."

Taako kicked Lup's shin. He appeared to her as a younger Taako, now more like his teenage self. "Don't put words in my mouth."

"He owes me a lot more'n one, by now. I guess he can have one of 'em back, as a funeral present. Are you doin' a funeral?"

"He died like, an hour ago. It's too early to plan anything."

Taako nodded. "Hm. Thinking about having a nice Spring funeral, maybe a southern theme. Cool pastel color palette, laser-cut invitations."

There was the sharp sound of a drawer opening on Ren's end. "Alright. I better get to work making up some excuses. Tell Taako to get well soon? I guess? Bye."

"Bye." Lup dispelled the stone's connection. "Well, that's done."

"Yeah." Taako leaned against Lup's arm. "Now, the socializing stuff."

Lup brought her legs up to her chest, resting her chin on her knees. "They're family, it's not gonna be a big deal."

"I know, they've mourned me before, but this context is, like, different, right?"

"You're still not going anywhere permanently. I'll make sure of that. I'd break every death law to keep you around, and so would Barry and Krav."

"Well, duh, I could've told you that. But like." He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "There's gonna be some kind of change in dynamic, here. And they could get all..." He gestured vaguely. "Sad. And stuff. Magnus'll probably cry like a giant baby."

"Yeah, he will. But, you know being sad for you is just their way of showing they love you, right?"

Taako scrunched his face up. "Disgusting."

Lup flicked his forehead. "It's true. People care about you and would be hurt if something bad happened to you, which it deffo has."

"I'm fine, though! Taako's chill with this new turn his life has taken. Or - existence has taken. No, actually, fuck that, it's still my life. I'm not in the Sea of Souls. I'm still here, thinking with my own brain and talking with my own mouth. Just 'cuz I don't have a fuckin' flesh body to do it with doesn't mean I'm not alive."

"Hell yeah, fuck flesh bodies. Flesh bodies are OUT, intangible constructs are IN. Had both, and I gotta say, if not for the laws of this land, I'd be lich-ing out twenty-four seven, baby."

A raven cawed, effectively catching Lup's attention. It gave her a little raven-y look of warning, whatever that looked like.

"Yeah, okay, I'm not _gonna._ Just aspirational." The raven held her gaze for one more second before hopping over to a shrub to investigate an interesting leaf. They sat in each other's company for a few minutes. The weather of the Astral Plane was as strange as the few plants that were planted there. It wasn't really real until someone thought about it. It never appeared as a result of a complicated slurry of environmental factors, like on the material plane. It was brought about by its residents' expectations. Thin raindrops fell from the empty sky. It wouldn't immediately surge into a downpour, that wouldn't be appropriate. "You wanna talk about it?"

"Absolutely not."

Lup nodded. "That's fair."

They watched the rain soak into the pavement of the courtyard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments add years to my life and words to my google doc's wordcount


	4. Stage 4: Paperwork

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taako and the gang (sans Kravitz) talk business with Todd!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw for some 'more existential than usual stuff' in this one.

A few minutes later, the telltale tear of a portal appeared in front of them, and barry's head popped out of it. "Hey, hon." He stepped into the courtyard, revealing a four-year-old, curly-haired half-elf on his hip, chewing on his fingers, brown eyes wide as storm giant's pasta platters. "Mrs. Peterson wasn't home, so." He shifted the child's weight, a more difficult task than it needed to be, considering the child was fully leaning out of Barry's grasp to reach for Lup who was already standing up to reach back at his little hands. "Vinnie's already in the conference room with the others. They've all been briefed on the..." Barry winced, glancing at Taako. "Situation."

"Cool. That saves me some talking," Taako said, rising from his seat.

Barry handed Davron off to Lup. "I'm gonna get Todd while you handle the crowd here."

Lup gave Barry a peck on the cheek. "Thanks, babe. You ready, Taako?"

He took a breath he didn't need. "As I'll ever be."

The walk to the conference room was quiet, and Davron stared at Taako almost the entire way. Taako couldn't blame him, of course, he was plenty worthy or being stared at even before he became partially transparent and glowy. Dav was a quiet kid, the type to only speak when he felt like it, and not necessarily when it was most helpful. Taako respected that.

At some point, after he'd slid out of Lup's grasp and started walking for himself, he reached for Taako's hand. He reluctantly let him take it, and Dav stared at it intently for a second before declaring, "It's soft."

"Thanks, I try to moisturize."

Davron shook his head insistently. "No, like how Joggy is soft." Joggy was, of course, Lup and Barry's white border collie, who was, indeed, soft, but definitely not in the way skin normally was.

"Cool," Taako said, having no clue what he was talking about.

Davron nodded, and returned to Lup to hold her hand instead.

They reached the conference room quickly, considering it, like the throne room, could be anywhere in the small illusion of a city that made up the main island of the astral plane. Lup and Taako shared a look as they stood in front of the door. Voices came from the other side, the voices of their family, but they couldn't make out what, exactly, they were saying. Taako chewed on his lip. It was Davron that ultimately opened the door, impatient with his mother and uncle's dawdling.

A palpable hush fell over the room when they saw the cluster of people standing around a long table lined in cheap office chairs. Lup grabbed Taako's hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

Notably, Kravitz and Vinren were absent from the group.

Taako closed the door behind them, with as much sheepishness as he could muster, which wasn't a lot. "Hey, guys. Uh, what's shakin'?"

There was a terrible moment where no one spoke, where no one knew what they should say, where what they'd heard was confirmed beyond reasonable doubt in front of their own eyes. Unless Taako was playing an astonishingly energy-intensive prank, he was confirmed to have died.

Then Lucretia spoke up. "Well, dang. Here I was thinking I'd be the first of us to beef it."

The room seemed to sigh, a less somber and awkward tone set into motion. Taako couldn't say his relationship with Lucretia wasn't strained, in that weird loving way a family relationship can be, but he did concede that she had gotten great at breaking some tension like a hammer to a slab of peppermint bark. He shot her some grateful finger-guns. "Honestly, same here."

Magnus, predictably, burst into tears, and immediately ran full-speed into Taako, pulling him into a bone-crushing hug. "T-Taako! You were all _alone_ and _d-dying,_ and I wasn't there t-to protect your squishy wizard body th-this time! A-and the last thing we talked about was which hors d'oeuvres we'd have a-at Xena's three-month birthday party? I-I don't mind that you have to make separate platters for the dogs and the people! Even if it feels like the dogs are being left out! I should have known it would be really hard to make stuff that was good for both!"

Taako, who was not entirely unused to having a load of ruffboi dumped into his arms, but was nonetheless never certain as to what to do when it happened, lightly pat Magnus on the back in a way he hoped was comforting. If he had still needed to breathe, he would have been suffocated by now. "Aw, geez. Uh, there, there, big guy? No use crying over spilled ground beef? Taako's fine, just... evicted. Check it, I can even still touch you." He poked Magnus's cheek. "You're not gonna be rid of me for a while. Sorry to disappoint."

Merle shuffled uncertainly up to Taako, wringing his hands. "Do you want me to, ah... heal you?"

Taako, who would have gotten tears and face-goo all over his shirt, if he still had one in the corporeal sense, rolled his eyes. "Oh, yeah, that'd be _mega_ helpful. Lemme just get my _literal corpse_ out of the _freezer_ so you can _resurrect it_ with a _d8_ -"

Merle threw his hands up. "Alright, I get it. No healing from ol' Merle."

"No healing from _anybody!_ I have no hitpoints to recover! My max is zero!" Magnus bawled louder into his shoulder. Taako sighed. "Listen, I'm still here, aren't I? We'll have a chat with this 'Todd' guy, maybe take a visit to the big bird mom, and everything's gonna be fine in the end."

"But, Taako," Davenport said, coming closer to him, eyebrows furrowed. "Are you sure you're fine right _now?"_

Taako huffed, and would have crossed his arms if they weren't still full of Magnus. "I-"

The door opened again, and in stepped Barry, plus another middle-aged white guy, blond, wearing one of those checkered button-ups that old math teachers wear, and carrying a thin manilla folder. He smiled, and it did reach his eyes, but, like, in the same way a zombie reaches for someone's foot. "Is this the meeting for the case of Taako Taaco?"

Taako effectively shoved Magnus in Merle's direction, who was equally not unused to having a load of ruffboi thrust into his arms, but marginally better at comforting said ruffboi, even if that wasn't saying much. "Yeah, that's, uh, me."

The man, Todd, presumably, slid into one of the chairs sitting around the conference room table. "I see. Well, Taako, you're in a bit of a pickle, here, aren't you?"

"Yeah, man, I'm fuckin' dead." Lup shot her gaze in his direction, pointedly covering Davron's slightly-pointy ears. Taako winced in apology.

Todd laughed airily. "Oh, no, that's not the pickle I was referring to. Most people I meet on the job are some type of dead. No, your situation is a bit more... unique."

Taako crossed his arms. "Well, yeah, you probably know my fiance, and my sister here."

"Oooh no! Not unique in that way. Though, good on you for that. That boy needed to settle down one of these days. No, I mean you don't seem to have a reservation in the sea of souls."

Taako blinked, and looked to Lup with an eyebrow raised to see if she knew anything about this. She was a bit busy watching Davron scribble various shapes in pen on a legal pad. He turned back to Todd. "Okay, well, I don't really want to be in the sea of souls, y'know? I got stuff to do. So, that's kinda a bonus for me, right?"

Todd hmm'd, squinting his eyes, keeping up his business smile. "I don't think you realize how much of an anomaly this is, Mister Taaco. The moment a soul is born, the Astral Plane has an immediate claim to the soul, unless another party of equal or higher power places a greater claim on the soul after a certain set of criteria are met." He sounded like he was quoting directly from that one reaper training manual that Taako knew neither Lup nor Barry had ever gotten around to reading. "You, however, we hold no claim over, and thus cannot transfer claim to any other entity, as your soul is tied to another astral plane."

A realization washed over the entire room. "The one orbiting Tusun," Davenport said.

Todd snapped his fingers. "Exactly."

"Shit. Or - shoot- don't say 'shit,' Davo. So, I'm just a lone ranger now? Wanderin' free?"

"Well, yes and no, Right now, your soul belongs to no one and nothing in the reachable universe."

"Sweet."

"But we can't allow it to stay like that."

"Dang."

"Currently, you're basically a ghost. You're being sustained by your own willpower and everyone's knowledge of your existence, and, considering your popularity and the strength of your will, you could probably go on in your current state for years, even decades to come. But! There's a reason there aren't any caveman ghosts. It's not a sustainable way to exist. Removing the deterioration that comes from a soul being unprotected by a body or other vessel, there's a chance that you could fade from existence altogether if not enough people actively remember you a few millennia down the line."

Taako decidedly did _not_ like the brand new flavor of existential dread _that_ particular statement brought him. "I mean, literally everyone over the age of five knows us, and quite a few under that..." He wanted to believe his statement had a point.

Todd's smile was the same it always had been. "Oh, how many adventurers and heroes I've heard say that over the centuries, their headstones untranslated, their bones indistinguishable from raw soil. There was a super volcano that erupted about three thousand years ago, it would have covered the continent in ash, and it was stopped by a group just like you. But you didn't know that, did you?" Cute, he was the kind of guy to actually say the shit Taako though about at night when he was twelve. Jeezy creezy.

"Okay, wait," Lup interjected. "We've all died before, like, a lot. Nothing like this has ever happened."

"Yeah, Merle said, still patting Magnus's back. "We just kinda... woke up, didn't we? Did something like this happen before, and we just don't remember it?"

"I have a theory." Everyone turned towards Barry, who they realized had been quieter than usual during the discussion, considering the topic. "So, we always respawned back on the starblaster whenever we died, right? So, what if the starblaster was some kind of... miniature plane?"

"It wasn't a _plane,_ silly, it was a _spaceship."_

"God, I hate you. You've turned into a monster. I thought you would be free from the mom jokes until you actually _had_ the kids _legally."_

Lup grinned. "Nope. I'm too far in to the six months, now. Full mom mode. Will be for at least the next fourteen years, so get used to it."

"No, yeah, but, we obviously didn't go to the astral plane of whatever planet we were visiting. What if our souls were tied to the starblaster, in the same way people are tied to an astral plane, and our souls just... hung out in there whenever we died? Is that anything? Could that have been a thing that happened?"

Todd considered this, tapping his chin. "People tying their souls to inanimate objects in order to be resurrected later isn't unheard of. We obviously have no way to test if this hypothesis is true, but it's logically sound. But!" He opened the file in front of him, and put on a pair of reading glasses. "That is all in the past, isn't it? We have the context of your situation, now we just need to ascertain how to move forward from here." He gestured to a plastic chair on the other side of the table. "Please, sit down. Let's take a look at your options..." The papers flew out of the folder, and started floating aimlessly around Todd, drifting around him in a circle. There were a lot more of them than what Taako assumed could fit in the thin manilla folder. Taako reluctantly sat down, one leg propped up on the armrest, the other folded under him.

"He can be a reaper, too, right?" Lup asked.

Taako shrugged, scrunching up his nose. "Eh. That's kinda _your_ thing. Not super into the _fighting biz_ anymore."

Todd tugged one of the many papers out of the air. Adjusting his reading glasses, he scanned it inquisitively. "Ah, here's something. Lady Istus." He placed the paper on the table for Taako to see. It was covered in pictograms that were meaningless to him, and which changed slightly whenever he wasn't looking at them. "Now, you haven't been especially _devout,_ but you do have her favor, for what it's worth, and your life's story does have enough connection to fate as a _concept_ that a case can be made for your employment."

Taako leaned over the paper to try and decipher what it was trying to say to him. Lup leaned over it with him, still keeping Davron in her lap. They shared a look of mutual bewilderment. "Cool, cool. I'm uh, amicable to that."

"There are also, of course, a few alternative afterlife options, we have a lovely selection of temporary island properties that you could apply for. It's almost unheard of to be allotted one on request, and not on recommendation by the Astral Plane itself, but it's an option."

"Hmm, nah. Don't get me wrong, love the Astral Plane, love everything you've got going on here, the aesthetic isn't really my, uh, thing, but it's on point. I don't know if I want to live here on a secluded island for all of eternity."

"Speak for yourself," Merle said. "When I die, get me one of those island things. One with a nice, cozy beach house, and make it a good view."

Davenport nodded enthusiastically. "Oh, yeah, and one of those outdoor kitchens?"

"Neither of you have cooked a day in your life, and you wouldn't even be able to go in the sea without stepping on someone's great-grandma. What the f- _heck_ are you talking about."

Unnoticed by most of the group, a strange, magical breeze swept through the papers surrounding Todd, but wasn't felt by anyone in attendance. Only Todd knew the disturbance wasn't a part of his regular levitation. He comfortably filed the incident into the 'strange, possibly important things that happed on the job' section of his memory, where it could stay unexamined. One of the papers flew directly into his palm, almost giving him a papercut. If the various forms and papers of the Astral Plane were any more distinct from one another, he might have realized that it was not one that was in Taako's folder when he picked it up from his filing cabinet that morning, before any of this had happened.

He scanned it curiously, one eyebrow raised. He lifelessly beamed as much as his business smile would allow him. "Oh! It looks like you're eligible for godhood! Lucky you!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woooo we're really in it now! It's not explicitly stated anywhere but literally everyone in this is ND. I have no idea how to write neurotypical characters as anything other than villains. I'm super excited for these next few chapters!! Comment your favorite line followed by a 17-character long keysmash! or just comment without an arbitrary prompt, I am fed either way.


	5. Stage 5: Discussing Philosophy with an Eleven-Year-Old

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where were Kravitz and Vinnie during that whole meeting fiasco? They were chatting on the beach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a bit short, sorry for that. It was originally going to be a LONG chapter in which A Lot happened, but for my sake and for your sake, I decided to surgically bisect it.

Kravitz would be the first to admit he was surprised and a bit bewildered when Vinren asked him, specifically, to guide her outside and away from the full room. Kravitz could relate, if not exactly for the same reasons. So, there he was, strolling on the rocky beach of the Astral Sea with an eleven-year-old. He still couldn't fully believe that he had a niece and nephew, now. He also couldn't believe they'd only been in Lup and Barry's care for a few months, they'd become so integrated into their family.

For some reason, he never wanted to make himself especially present to either of Lup and Barry's children. As though if he didn't keep them at arm's length, they would be cursed to an early grave, or other such nonsense his brain came up with. That didn't stop the children form approaching him, of course, he was their uncle, they lived in the same neighborhood as him and Taako, and they were naturally fascinated by the opportunity to talk to the literal Grim Reaper.

Vinren, or "Vinnie," as she was often called, was a half-elf, half wood elf specifically, with dark hair that was curlier than her brother's. Her shoes were deeply worn, and noticeably too small, but she never elected to wear the new ones Lup helped her pick out. She liked sweaters that were large enough for the sleeves to cover her hands, but she tended to cuff and scrunch them up so they ended around her elbows. She was set to enter the local chapter of the Sapling Scouts at the beginning of next school year, and she could chatter on excitedly about that for hours.

She was quiet as they walked along the beach, unknowingly speed-walking in her fervor, always a few steps ahead of Kravitz, keeping her gaze on the ground as she waited for the pressure of everyone's thoughts to fade. Considering both of their speeds, Kravitz probably should have been getting gradually further away from her as they walked, but the distance kept consistent. Space was weird in the Astral Plane, same as most things.

The sea was completely still, not a wave or creature to disturb its surface. It was so transparent it was almost difficult to see the water at all. When a beach is described as "rocky," an image of a myriad of smooth, water-worn stones comes to mind. That was technically true of the Astral Sea's beach, but it was a lot more than that upon a moment's inspection. A good portion of the rocks still had dried cement stuck to them. A few kept their delicate chiseled stonework. A few of the rocks were actually just small statues or parts of broken statues. If the Astral Sea were open to the living public, it would be a popular destination for archaeologists and antique dealers, no doubt.

Once Vinren had calmed down enough to stop speed-walking, she staggered to meet Kravitz's pace. "Sorry for dragging you out of the meeting. It's just that I'm not supposed to go wandering in the Astral Plane without supervision."

Kravitz smiled pensively. "You're welcome. It's no trouble at all. They can be a bit... overwhelming sometimes. Even when they're fun to be around."

She wrung her hands. "Mmm. It's not their fault, it's my psionic... _thing."_

Kravitz nodded. "It's no one's fault. Sometimes people are just... loud."

"Yeah. And they all think... differently. From each other, and from me. The... waves all clash with each other. She crouched to pick up a palm-sized slab of grout that used to be part of a huge mosaic. Judging by its appearance, it might have been part of a leaf, or a vine. She put it in her skirt pocket. "Your soul sounds better. Sounds like music. Or, not _music_ because thoughts don't actually sound like anything, they're thoughts, you know? But it feels like how you feel listening to music."

"Oh. Thank you." They continued their walk, a lone raven watching them from atop a particularly large intact stone column that was both built and destroyed years before written language existed. A realization came to Kravitz. "You hear thoughts through people's souls?"

"Yeah. That's where thoughts come from. Kind of. Really, everything comes from the brain, but the brain kind of _is_ the soul? If that makes sense. Or, what's in it. Not the squishy parts, the stuff between all that."

"I see."

"Maybe it'd be better for me if I could understand what everyone's thinking, instead of just... head shapes. You know? But that would be a major invasion of privacy."

Kravitz tilted his head. "Can you hear the souls in the sea?" He was genuinely curious. He never had the occasion or means to know what happened to souls once they were in the sea.

Vinren hummed. "Not really. They're asleep." She covered the side of her mouth and whispered, like she was telling a secret. "I think they might be dreaming."

"Ah." That made sense, in a way.

"Are there dogs in the sea of souls?"

Kravitz blinked. "Uh..." He rubbed his chin, trying to assemble an answer that was both truthful and understandable to a child. "Well, I don't know if any dogs believe in the Raven Queen, or anything. I do know that, especially a few centuries ago, there were some minor reapers that were dogs. Guided the souls of the people buried in the same cemetery they were buried in. It was a whole thing. None of the ravens around here could get more than ten feet close to the ground. They're lucky the dogs never figured out they could probably fly if they wanted to."

Vinren stared at him for a second. "You don't have to be nervous. I already know the "went to live on a farm" thing is a lie. It'd have been hard to convince me that my birth parents went to live on a farm and never tried to get in touch. I'll be fine if Joggy doesn't get to stay with me when I die."

Kravitz shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah. I'm not sure about every animal in the Astral Sea. I know most intelligent species end up here, mostly humanoids. The Astral Sea goes by a lot of names in a lot of cultures, though. Some call it Hades, some call it The Afterlife. They all get the same job done."

Vinren pondered this. "So, if a Hades worshipper came to this exact spot, they wouldn't see the Astral Sea, they'd see Hades?"

"Probably. This plane only exists in the way the living think of it. Death is only as much of a place as it is a person."

Vinnie was about to open her mouth to ask another question when clattering, rocky footsteps sounded from behind them. Kravitz turned to their source, a gnomish reaper in a dark purple pantsuit.

"Kravitz!" they called, tucking their arm so they could wave at him. "Kravitz, The Raven Queen wants to see you."

Kravitz smoothed down his already-immaculate tie. "She can see me whenever she likes. This is her domain, every atom is her eye."

"No, not- She wants you to go to the throne room. She's got something _real_ important to talk to you about."

Kravitz summoned his scythe, dramatically twirling his cape as he did. "What is it?"

"I dunno. But it must be important if she didn't wanna just beam it into your head. Who's the kid?"

"I'm Vinnie. Are you a reaper?"

They curtsied shallowly. "Yeah, I'm a reaper. Only for about two centuries, now, though. Mostly PR stuff and the occasional amateur teen blood cult. Not half as exciting as Kravitz's job here."

"You flatter me. I suppose I'll have to answer the Queen's summons. Vinnie, can you walk back yourself, or...?"

"I can walk with her if you need," the gnome volunteered.

Vinren nodded. "Thank you."

They waved goodbye, and Kravitz swung his scythe in the indeterminate direction of the Raven Queen's throne room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *holds out the comment box like a rusty little tin cup* P-please, kind sir. Spare serotonin for a poor young fanfic author?


	6. Stage 6: Throwing Wrenches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kravitz has a chat with the Raven Queen about some stuff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! Another short one that's mostly exposition! Next one will actually have Taako in it, I swear, I just need to establish some stuff for thematic purposes.

Taako usually described the Raven Queen as somethin like "Looks like your mom, y'know, if you had one, except like... more goddess-y, y'know?" Lup usually said the same, except she was much more likely to use the adjective "hot" in her description. Apparently Barry saw something a bit more eldritch and many-eyed, with too many clawed arms and impractically placed pairs of wings. Kravitz saw a towering birdlike woman, not quite aarakocra, but definitely not human, dressed in robes that were woefully out of fashion even before he was mortal. ("Woefully" not because they weren't absolutely gorgeous, "woefully" because Kravitz wanted so badly for them to be more accessible and stylish back then, so he could have the chance to wear them.) Her face was covered by a mask, or perhaps her face _was_ a mask. Probably both.

Kravitz quietly suspected she might be putting on a divine glamor of sorts to conceal her true form to everyone, and that he was one of a scant few who saw what she truly looked like. However, that was a self-centered notion, and not one he dared to indulge for too long at a time. It wouldn't make sense for gods to have "true forms," practically or thematically. And to think that _he,_ and no one else, was somehow special enough to see it was preposterous.

He bowed on one knee before her when he got close enough to her throne, an unnecessary gesture he knew the queen would dismiss shortly, after all these years. He spoke, "My queen, you wished to speak with me? I assume about my fiance's... current state."

Her voice echoed through the room, not a booming, unnatural echo, but an echo in the most literal sense, a natural reaction that came from a noise in a large room, just without the initial noise for it to come from. **_Your beloved has died, but is not dead._**

"Yes, my queen, but... please understand, it's of no fault of his own. Something's... off. He doesn't feel the pull of the sea, and I don't know why."

The queen waved her hand dismissively. **_Yes, he has no place in the astral sea. And neither does any of his otherplanar family. They cannot access the astral plane that they are bound to, right now. They left it long ago. But, that's all being taken care of as we speak. Taako will be fine, with or without his paperwork in order._** She lowered her voice, the echoes going directly into his mind. **_The offices don't really do much of anything. The plane ran fine without them for millenia, but it helps for things to make sense to the mortals. And it's enriching. But that's not what I wanted to talk to you about._**

Kravitz blinked. "Oh. Well, uh, what _did_ you want to talk about?"

She motioned for him to rise. **_You've been in my service for a good few centuries now._**

He nodded, standing up straight. "And dutifully so."

**_You've spent more time in the field than you have in your home in the Astral Plane. Your existence hasn't been a secret for years. You hadn't asked for a break in six centuries, before you met your beloved. There are few reapers who have served me as you have, and you are the only one of these few which I do not..._** She searched for the right word. **_...regret._** She couldn't feel regret in the same way mortals did, of course, but it was presumably an appropriate word to match a regretful situation.

"How do you mean, my queen?"

She sighed, an action that manifested in a strong breeze flowing through the room, accompanied by a sound like a mournful _caw. **You're young, for a reaper. But also, old, for a reaper. You've held on so closely to your human face, but you haven't let it become the face of your work.**_ She steepled her claws in though. _ **I trust you don't know the case of Vras, the Orcish Death.**_

"No, I can't say I do."

_**Vras used to be a reaper in my retinue. He operated much like any other for many years, bringing death criminals to justice, spreading my message. He liked to have an audience, large-scale battles in small villages with dracoliches, taking down cults in the middle of public speeches. There was one memorable occasion where he took the soul of a secret-necromancer king during his own funeral. He was made into a symbol of Natural Death and Consequence to the Evils of Necromancy within the cultures where he was most prolific.**_ She sighed again. _ **I haven't seen him in centuries. Vras wasn't always his name. It's not a name at all in Orcish. It simply means "Death."**_ Kravitz could feel a chill go through him. She wanted him to know this was a serious, dreadful matter. **_He isn't the only one of his kind, as you know. Surely you know of The Lady in White, or perhaps Maedora. They used to be reapers, too. Though, they weren't called reapers back then. That term came into popularity around six hundred years ago._** If she'd had eyebrows, she'd have been raising them at him.

Kravitz's eyes shifted as he absorbed this information. He knew there was more than one Death in the Raven Queen's retinue, of course, and more outside of it. Kravitz had only held his position for a millisecond of civilization, there were several that came before him, and several in countries he didn't have a foothold in. He never talked to them, not out of ill feelings, but he assumed they shared a silent agreement that two separate representations of the same thing with entirely different interpretations of how human-like, or antagonistic, or nebulous they were would make for awkward water cooler conversation. And of course there were the Deaths that never seemed to do anything but be Death. He didn't see them around much.

_**We've been getting more reapers, recently. From one new one a decade to two new ones every year,**_ she commented lightly.

"Define 'recently,' God time's weird." A less experienced reaper would be sweating bullets by now. Kravitz knew better than to give himself sweat glands when visiting the queen.

**_Since about... five years ago._**

"Since The Day?"

She hummed. **_A bit after. I can only assume more mortals realized they had the option after The Day, and planned accordingly._**

"Ah. Many apologies, my queen, if it is an inconvenience. We could figure something out, send a few messages to the temples-"

**_Kravitz, I'm thinking of retiring._**

He paused. The statement had come out of nowhere. Or, no. Nothing came out of nowhere. "Oh? I didn't know that was something that gods could do."

She nodded, and the ceiling nodded with her. **_It is. I wasn't always a god, you know. I was a patron. I assumed so many warlocks, and such devoted warlocks, that they organized themselves into meeting groups. They conflicted on interpretations of my cause. They naturally developed into a hierarchy, spread my word and amassed people that didn't even want the power I could give them as a patron. Eventually I grew too powerful and revered, too connected to my cause, to be considered anything but a god. I became my teachings incarnate._** The room grew faint as she spoke, as if it was distracted by things other than its job of being a room.

"Interesting." Kravitz rubbed his chin, mentally trying to reshape everything he'd ever learned and assumed about his boss of over seven hundred years. "Apologies, my queen, but I'm not sure why you're telling me all of this?"

The Raven Queen didn't speak for a few moments. **_Kravitz._** She took his hands in hers. He hadn't noticed when she'd shrunk down small enough to do that. **_It would be a simple matter to make you eligible for godhood. When I go, I cannot think of more capable hands to leave the Astral Plane in than yours._**

Kravitz could hardly believe what he was hearing. It was a lot to drop on someone, especially on the same day of his fiance's death. He was many things, he was someone who forgot he was ever mortal, he was someone who forgot he wasn't mortal. He was Death, made into a manageable, visual construct, or, one of many interpretations. Did Death count as a god? There were gods of death, sure, but Death itself? Did people worship Nature instead of Pan? Worship Joy along with Lliira? One would think that after spending centuries talking to gods on a regular basis, that they would start to seem more approachable, accessible. That they would start to seem more like the mortals that maintained them. Maybe that was true, for the first few centuries. But there was a curve to learning how mortal the gods were, and the other side of that curve ran deep. Only after spending so much time with the gods did anyone realize just how incongruous they really were. Imagining himself as a god was as impossible as imagining himself in the Sea of Souls.

"Why now? Why right after Taako died? Could this not have waited?" It was a statement of passion, but not a sudden one. Nothing was ever sudden, not even him. Not even Death. He couldn't feel his shoes melting into the smooth, impossible stone of the floor beneath him.

**_It has everything to do with Taako. I did not foresee his death, I could not if I wanted to. But I know he holds the potential for godhood, as well._**

"He- What? How?"

**_That is a question best asked of the mortals who made it so._**

"He... He's not really _worshipped,_ is he?" Taako was popular, of course he was, but _worshipped?_ Maybe he worshipped him in a more romantic, courtly love kind of way, maybe a few people did in a more literal way, but not enough to make him eligible for godhood, surely. Though, what difference did numbers make?

_**He's close to it. He already has a myth behind him, now he just needs a new beginning. Which, in a way, he already has. You know better than anyone, Kravitz, that death is only the beginning of so many things. Just as mine will be.**_

"You'll die if you rescind your godhood." It wasn't a question.

_**I don't need to give you the "souls are made of bonds, nothing ever really dies" speech, yes?**_

"No, you don't." He knew death too well to believe it to be true. By some definitions of death, it was true, but only the definitions crafted specifically to make this sentimental, oft-repeated speech. "Why do you want this? Why retire at all?" _How can I fix it_ was left unsaid, but not unheard.

The Raven Queen made her lack of answer known to him. It might have been a shrug, if she'd had more conventional shoulders. **_Well, for the short answer, I'm tired, and a rebranding would be good for this place. Mostly because I'm tired, though._**

**_For the long answer, there is obviously a way for liches to keep themselves emotionally stable, not become a danger to those around them, even if they are outliers. It makes one wonder if it can be replicated, if there are ways to safely do some of the more dangerous necromantic rituals. It is a strange thing, to learn one of the pillars your very existence is built upon isn't as solid as you though it was. I'm the goddess of the natural progression of life and death. But who decides what death is natural, and what is unnatural? I know my followers have started doubting in the same way as I have. This, Kravitz,-_** She cupped his face in her clawed hands. ** _-is where you come in._**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm thinking of making a full director's cut of this fic after it's done, just to get all the symbolism out there in one coherent place. Not sure how interested anyone would be! Anyway, kudoses are like candy, but comments are even sweeter.


	7. Stage 7: Denial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lots of talking and foreshadowing in this one, folks!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woooo! Most of my college stuff: done. More time to work on this thing: acquired.

There was obviously some excitement, following Todd's abrupt announcement. A bit of unnecessary shouting, mostly coming from Magnus's direction. A bit of Lup and Barry trying to keep Davron from including himself in said shouting. A bit of Merle rifling through the Extreme Teen Bible with a more confused look than normal on his face. A bit of Davenport asking a million different questions to an indifferent, ever-smiling Todd.

Taako, for his part, was handling it well, he thought. Obviously he wanted to be a god, right? He's _Taako,_ y'know, from that one time every planarverse in every iteration of existence got saved? He's practically already a god. He tucked his knees under his chin in a way he hoped came off as just getting into a thinking pose, rather than retreating in on himself like a hiding child. His stomach turned, which it had absolutely no right to do, considering he didn't even _have_ a stomach. Shit, could he still eat? All of the dead people in his personal social circle could eat, even if they didn't really have to, but was he different from them? Would he still be able to eat if he was a god? Would he have a chance at the leftovers waiting for him in the fridge? Would he ever be able to taste his own wedding cake, someday? Would he still have the time to make brownies for Angus the next time he came over for a visit? Fuck, he _still_ hadn't gotten around to telling Angus anything about the events of the day. What if he'd waited too long, and now it would cleave some sort of complex-inducing rift between them that would never scab over? He would have wanted someone to tell him about a family member dying as soon as possible, at that age, or even younger. Oh, fuck, and he would have to tell his students, eventually, the _public,_ eventually. What kind of mess was he leaving behind, if he ran off and became a god? What kind of mess could he make after?

The door opened a few inches, and Vinnie stuck her head through to see the commotion, and almost immediately closed it again. Judging by her look of annoyance, this wasn't the first time she'd checked to see if their energy had died down. Taako stood, amplifying his voice with one of the spell slots he didn't seem to have a limit on anymore. "OKAY!" a hush finally settled over the room. "So, I _may_ be game for this whole 'godhood' business you're putting on the table. It sure beats the sea of snoozefest out there. But! You're not gonna get me to sign a contract without letting me read the fine print, ya dig?"

Todd nodded sympathetically. "Entirely understandable, Mister Taako! Well, in short, you'll need a domain, some followers, and some paperwork. Preferably in that order. I'm sure Kravitz could explain it a bit better than I ever could. After all, he's spent the most personal time among the gods out of everyone in the current retinue."

"He has?" Magnus asked.

"Oh, yes, yes. Important business to attend to, that boy's got."

"Real important cribbage to play," Lup muttered.

"Wait, wait," Merle interjected, holding his hands up. "You can't just... _become a god,_ right? That's not how gods work. They're born like that, out of the... celestial ooze, or wherever."

"Hm. In the case of Pan, yes, he was never mortal. He might have had a predecessor of a different name, but..." Todd shrugged. "That's a question for the archaeologists. Recently, and by 'recently' I mean in the past thousand or so years, there's been a pattern of a few mortals ascending to godhood more often. They need to be in pretty specific circumstances, and not everyone eligible for godhood actually ascends. There are plenty of souls in the sea that could have been gods, as well, but they weren't rejected from the sea as you are, Taako."

Merle looked like he was about ready to go home, chug a whole bottle of dwarven wine, and have a serious dream-chat with Pan. Taako was inclined to do the same.

The door creaked open again, drawing everyone's attention. Vinnie peeked her head through. "Oh, you're done." She stepped inside to join her brother, Kravitz following close behind.

"Kravitz!" A weight seemed to lift from Taako's shoulders. Kravitz. He knew what he was doing, he held more knowledge and experience about this than anyone else in the room. He was practically already a god, too, and that wasn't just his embarrassingly-smitten fiance bias talking. He hadn't even untangled his legs from the complicated position he'd somehow finagled them into before Kravitz was by his side, hands hovering close to him, but all too far away from him like back when they had first started dating. He reached up to hold Kravitz's face just a few inches away from his. "I'm gonna be a god!"

"I know!" He lifted his hands to Taako's face in kind. "The Raven Queen pretty much gave me the rundown. Listen, I have a lot of things to tell you, but-" He glanced at the rest of the gathered people in the room. "-it can wait." He grasped Taako's hand, a bit too gently, if Taako was being entirely honest. Probably worried that he would somehow become incorporeal if he squeezed too hard. Taako wasn't entirely sure Kravitz was wrong in that worry. "Okay, everyone. I think we'll be needing some time to deliberate on the situation. We can regroup... tomorrow?" He raised a questioning eyebrow at Taako for confirmation.

"Yeah. Yeah, tomorrow. At some point. In the afternoon, maybe, to give us time? Eh, we'll deal with schedules later, I know y'all got stones."

"And yet you never call..." Davenport said, right as Merle was opening his mouth to probably say the exact same thing.

They split up, Taako, Kravitz, Lup, Barry, and the kids going to Lup and Barry's house, with the rest going to their respective homes to absorb the events of the day and wait for further instructions. They all arrived in no time, with the reapers' portal magic. Barry said he and Vinnie had homeschool work to do in the study, but Taako appreciated it for what it was, an excuse to give them some privacy, and also maybe to avoid an intellectual discussion regarding something he knew nothing about. Vinnie followed him upstairs with a final lingering curious look in Taako's direction.

Lup picked Davron up, holding him so his chin rested on her shoulder. He clung his perpetually-sticky fingers to her magazine-bead necklace, rather than her even more gaudy plastic chunky bead necklace, and yawned loudly. "Alright. Make yourselves comfortable, not that you need my permission. I have to get the little boychik to his afternoon N-A-P." She spelled "nap" out deliberately and quietly, leaning away from Dav's prying ears.

It didn't work, of course. "Nooo! I'm not sleepy!" He ineffectually kicked his short legs in the air, visibly sluggish in his movements. Lup gave them a fond _you see?_ look, and rubbed Dav's back as she carried him upstairs.

When Kravitz was certain that Lup was out of earshot, he turned to Taako, holding both of his ghostly hands. Both pairs tingled slightly, now. "Taako, uh, about my _talk_ with the Raven Queen..." He sat them both down on Lup and Barry's long couch, the one diagonal to the denim loveseat they both pretended wasn't there. "I, uh. I could become a god, too. She offered me the opportunity to take her place as ruler of the Astral Plane."

Taako blinked, mentally pausing for a moment. His form grew brighter, but also a bit more transparent as he thought. He didn't entirely understand why this had to be a discussion that was exclusive to the two of them, but he carefully kept his voice down to dodge Lup's borderline-supernatural hearing. "I mean, I guess... hell yeah, my dude. Uh, more the merrier. Power couple of the millennia, right here." Taako wasn't sure of anything he was saying, but it all held the shape of the truth.

Kravitz smiled, despite himself. "Emphasis is on _'could,'_ love. This is a big decision, one we can't go back on once we've made it..." Kravitz rubbed his thumb over Taako's many-ringed fingers. "There are... risks, to becoming a god. Not like, you'll get physically hurt or anything, but... Taako, there's always the chance that you'll _lose_ yourself. _Becoming_ your domain, completely forgetting your mortal life. This isn't meant to discourage you, not at all, but... Yeah. You should know that, before... Just, think about it."

Taako wanted very badly to smoosh his face into Kravitz's chest and not think about anything for a while, a desire that made a frequent appearance to him, but had been especially demanding, today. But, he was in his sister's living room, and if they didn't figure this out now, they might not have the chance to, later, so he settled for lacing his fingers between Kravitz's and holding up their entangled hands between the two of them like a promise. "I..." He bit his lip. "Well, it's safe to say I didn't know that, so thanks for letting me know. Uh..." He shifted in his seat, pulling his legs up onto the couch so he could partially kneel. "I think, maybe, it might be worth the risk. I think I've got a good support system here on the material plane, and, you know, I can learn from those other gods' mistakes. And, gods are made of what think of them, right? So, if my worshippers know me, personally, I could stay as myself, maybe?" He turned his statement into a question at the last second.

Kravitz raised an eyebrow. "Could you?"

Taako sighed. "I dunno. Maybe we can start planning, or, just the first few steps of this process, and if I change my mind, we can call it off? I guess... I just want to be a mortal god, all perks, no drawbacks. I honestly hadn't even considered the whole depersonalization thing. I thought the biggest drawback would be the responsibility."

Kravitz chucked a little. "No, not as much responsibility in that profession as you'd think. A god's job is basically to just... exist. And sometimes send omens. Or show up on the material plane in disguise, so you can test some rando's wit or morality."

"Well, that's hardly a responsibility, huh? Just sounds like the thing I'd already be doing, were it not for those pesky laws against breaking and entering."

Kravitz was laughing breathily as Lup appeared at the bottom of the staircase, notebook and glittery plastic pencil pouch in hand. "He's asleep, for now. We should have the living room to ourselves at least until dinner time. Vinnie's working on science, so she and Barry'll be occupied for a few hours. They're on a constant feedback loop with that. You know she's on the _seventh_ grade biology workbook?" she said with no small touch of pride. She dropped the spiral notebook and pouch on the one clear spot on the coffee table that wasn't cluttered with Little Artificing blocks and Beautify Bugbear dolls. All Dav's, of course, Vinnie was more of a Pop Rock Rangers kind of kid. "So!" She flopped onto the denim loveseat ( _joveseat,_ to the cultured crowd) and clasped her hands expectantly in front of her. "Domain."

Taako sighed, which he seemed to be doing a lot, lately, and grabbed the notebook, digging through the pencil puch until he retrieved a bright green gel pen. "Okay, I'll get the easy one out of the way: obviously, I could always be the god of jelly pranks."

Kravitz reverently held Taako's hands in front of him, looking him right in the face. (Not the eyes, though. They had a mutual agreement about not indulging in the useless discomfort of direct eye contact.) "Honey? Dearest? Love of my life and father to my three children? Please don't become the god of jelly pranks."

Taako huffed. "'S _my_ godhood, _I_ get to choose what counts as a viable domain." Still, Taako elected not to start his list with that.

"Seems a bit obvious, but, cooking?" Lup suggested.

"Nng. Maybe. I mean..." He tapped the pen against his lips. "Cooking seems a bit... mundane, compared to all the other stuff that's happened to me. It's a hobby, y'know?"

"That's fair. Like if I became the goddess of violin, or the goddess of absolutely bangin' double-denim outfits. Know what, come to think of it..."

"No, you cannot become the goddess of double-denim outfits, Lup, I'm stopping this bit before it leaves the station," Kravitz quickly interrupted.

"But _could_ I be a goddess?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Kravitz made a noncommittal noise. "I mean, probably. Considering you went through a lot of the same circumstances as Taako..."

"Oh! Transmutation," Lup said.

Taako gave her a thumbs-up, and scrawled it in the notebook, right on the same page as an outline for an essay on the environmental effects of the Create Greater Undead spell.

  
"Hm," Kravitz said. "Would it be mawkish of me to suggest beauty?"

Taako half-heartedly kicked his leg, keeping the notebook close to his face to partially hide his grin. "Yes, it would be, you goober. You absolute sap."

"Ew." Lup stuck her tongue out in faux-disgust, but quickly stopped when a dangerously inquisitive expression fell upon her. "No, wait, Krav might actually have a point with that one. The domain's all in the main theme of a god's story, right? And it doesn't all have to be Aphrodite's, or Sune's interpretation of beauty, as long as it ties into _your_ story."

Taako idly tapped the pen against his knee. He could maybe spin his story in a way that put his complicated relationship with his own attractiveness as a main theme. With enough time and some emotional reassurance. "So, if we find a good metaphor or something in my tragic-ass backstory, I could be a god of beauty? Or, anything, really?"

"I mean, if I understand it correctly?" She didn't sound sure of any of her own words. She glanced at Kravitz for confirmation.

He was honestly just surprised Lup had picked up _any_ theology during her time as a reaper. "Yes, I think you have it right. Theoretically. It's hard to tell if any of this will work, considering we don't have a lot of examples to go off of."

"'Cept for Reggie Fitzpatrick."

Kravitz grimaced. "We don't talk much about Reggie."

"Eugh, yeah." Taako leaned back and examined the dismally short list they'd created. "Fuckin'... languages?"

"Languages could work," Lup said, nodding in approval.

"Nah, I don't wanna do languages. Too nerdy. It'll ruin my image."

" _You're_ the one that speaks _eleven_ of 'em, bro," Lup muttered.

They all thought in silence for a few contemplative moments. Eventually, Kravitz spoke up. "There's always destiny."

"Yeah," Lup said, snapping her fingers. "Didn't Todd say your backstory has a lot of ties to fate already?"

Taako made a hum-adjacent noise of uncertainty, leaning further back into the overstuffed couch. "I don't know, that's kind of Istus's thing? Also, isn't that, like, a bit of an abstract thing to be a god of? Like, not many mortals ascending because they got good at controlling the threads of fate."

Kravitz shrugged. "It's no more abstract than death. Really, being a god isn't about being _good_ at something, goodness knows a lot of them would be fired in an instant if that was the case, but about being worshipped for something."

Taako grinned from behind the notebook. He took a moment to add _destiny/fate(?)_ to the list. "Well, dang, I'm already halfway there, then, if that's the case."

Kravitz smiled fondly. "We can put domain on the backburner for now."

"Yeah," Lup said. "Domain's not gonna mean anything if you don't have the follower count to show for it, right? And not in just the celebrity-fan sense you've got right now. You're going to have to make sure they know to start, like, burning offerings in your name, or whatever. You gotta get the news out there. Ideally something with a lot of publicity, reach as many people as possible." Kravitz looked thoroughly surprised at Lup's apparent knowledge about this, and Taako couldn't disagree with that.

"Alright. We can throw a bangin' 'wake slash new god hazing' party. Easy."

Kravitz hummed, steepling his fingers. "I don't know about that, dear. Sometimes, such things require a little more... subtlety." Taako was simultaneously absolutely enamored and absolutely terrified of the smile that spread across his fiance's lips. He cozied up, unable to hide the newfound excitement growing in him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is almost completely done already, AND it has everyone's favorite boy Angus in it!! So stay vigilant!


	8. Stage 8: Unidentifiable Emotional Reaction, Seemingly Untied to Any Actual Emotion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You ever write something so project-y that you have to stand up a few times and pace and stare in the mirror without really looking at yourself for a bit? Yeah. Angus Time!!

Taako wasn't entirely sure why he was here. Which was stupid, because he was the one to come here of his own volition. He could've gone to any other place before this one. Hell, it would've been smarter to start at any other place but this one. But, here it was, in the dorm building of Lucas's dumb "arcane sciences" school, in the only un-dumb room it could boast.

Angus's dorm was a single, indicative of his prestigious status within the school. Or perhaps just indicative of the fact that he was the youngest senior in the building. It was also an unintentional chaotic salmagundi of aesthetics. He'd already fused the "jock" thing to his prep/nerd style with his joining of the soccer team in his freshman year. Now, as any fifteen year old former prep nerd who went through trauma at a young age is wont to do, he's tried his best (key word: _tried)_ to shuck himself of his former style, and thrown "goth" into the mix. Taako couldn't be more conflicted.

The influence of having not one, but three ultra-goth role models helped him skip the experimental and often embarrassing "baby bat" phase, and jump straight into a more mature, bandboxical version of goth, one which involved a lot of bow ties and black tweed. Less "Fantasy Siouxsie Sioux" more "newsboy Vincent Price." The fact that Taako knew what the phrase "baby bat" meant was probably indicative that he needed to spend less time with that particular side of the family.

But maybe the fact that Angus was fast asleep with his glasses askew and his cheek pressed into his folded arms at the ripe hour of 8:30 pm meant there was a smidge more nerd left in him than he let on as of late. Notebook paper and worksheets were scattered across the desk, along with a few textbooks in the corner and used makeup wipes blotched in cheap black eyeliner. Also on the desk was a half-empty coffee mug with "black as my soul" (Angus's coffee recipe was one third milk, two spoonfuls of sugar, and some melted chocolate chips) written on the side, and a dim desk lamp that illuminated the small corner of the room, but not much else. "Hey, Ango. Agnes. Macaroni," Taako whispered, nudging Angus's shoulder. Angus didn't open his eyes, but he made a sleepy grunting noise that was more breath than voice.

Taako plucked Angus's glasses off of his face, and laid them carefully beside him on the desk. He looked around for a beanbag chair or something, but quickly realized he didn't need one. He sat on the thin air beside him, carefully disregarding the material plane's physics just because he could. He wasn't actually sure if he needed to sit, his legs hadn't been giving him trouble since he died, probably because of all the floating he was doing. As soon as he thought of that, though, his right hip tightened up in warning. Shit. Couldn't escape that even in death, huh? Angus didn't move other than the steady rise and fall of his shoulders. Taako found himself emulating it uselessly. "Guess I gotta tell you, first. 'S not fair to make you find out via the rumor mill, or whatever. _You_ gotta be the one turning the crank on that rumor mill, y'hear? Or- I think- I'm not actually entirely sure how mills work? Anyway."

Taako twiddled his thumbs, trying to breathe, but finding the air had nowhere to go. His body wasn't displacing any air, it was intersecting it. The oxygen around them was more tangible than his own lack of body. He sighed, leaning an elbow on the desk and digging his chin into his palm. "Listen, Angus... Some stuff's gonna change - or - some stuff's already changed, like, a lot. And... I'm not sure how much time I'm gonna get to have on the material plane, once all this stuff starts. I'm gonna keep in touch, Ango, I promise, however I can. There's not a lot of stuff keeping me in the realm of the living right now, but you're one of, like, the main ones. Along with, like, the cats, of course."

He tapped his fingers on the desk, lighter than he usually would. He had to be careful to not let them phase into the wooden surface. A half-finished essay was resting in front of Angus, written neatly on a piece of fancy lineless calligraphy paper. Next to it was Angus's open notebook, with the same essay printed out in slightly messier handwriting. From what he could tell, it wasn't half-bad, especially for a fifteen-year-old's essay on the many magical uses for mistletoe. He'd have given it a solid A, shaky A-minus. Could do with some more personality. Of course, Lucas's school probably _hated_ any good personality in its students' essays.

"I know I don't do, or say, this a lot, to you, or really to anyone. Sincerity isn't exactly a part of the Taako Brand." Fuck, he was such a coward. Did he even _try_ to wake Angus up? He might as well skip this visit and move on to somebody he didn't care about. Leave him to find out at the same time as the dust-composed masses. Taako shook his head, scratching at his scalp. This wasn't the time to be thinking about that, it was never the time to be thinking like that.

"I guess, what I'm trying to say is... thanks. For... being an anchor, kiddo. I mean- not to put any pressure on you, or anything, just-" Damn, this would be so much easier if he didn't care so much about this kid's emotional well-being. "You know you do that just by _existing_ and being a part of my life, right? Taako doesn't need any upkeep from a fuckin' teenager. I can take care of myself, or, well, not really, but it's not your job to take care of me, it's my job to take care of you? So, I guess, you're a great influence on my life, and you're doing so much good, and I'm so proud of you, and also I'll be fine if you decide you don't want me around anymore, if that's what you want. Don't let it influence any decision you make, but I, uh, I like having you as my apprentice. You're a good egg, Ango. So, yeah."

Taako had no idea if he'd handled that right, or even if he'd handled anything at all. It wasn't as airtight of a statement as he'd like it to be. It was so easy to give a kid a complex because of some offhand statement, he'd learned that after a few years of therapy. He'd probably be worrying about it the rest of the week. Which was stupid because Angus wasn't even awake.

"Okay, let's get you to bed. Gotta take care of that back while it's still young and functional." He used a short burst of Levitate to get Angus to stand in a manageable carrying position without jostling him awake. Unfortunately, it didn't seem to work.

A small noise escaped Angus's throat, and his brow furrowed. Taako froze, hoping against hope that he'd go back to being peacefully slack, but alas. His eyes blinked open. His poor vision wasn't made any better by the fact that he'd just woken up, but he immediately squinted at Taako.

"Who-" His eyes widened. "...Taako?" There was a textured break in his voice.

"Uh..." Taako glanced at himself and around the room, as if something would appear out of thin air to help him. "Don't freak out."

"Why? Is there something to freak out about? What's there to freak out about?" He spoke quickly, each sentence melding with the next.

Taako clasped his hands in front of his face. There really wasn't anything to freak out about. But that was such a subjective way to look at it, wasn't it? When was there ever a reason to freak out? Can a situation be labeled by what emotions people are supposed to feel when it happens, or what emotions they actually feel when it happens? How would Angus feel? Feelings had such a nasty habit of contradicting the culturally agreed upon feelings surrounding an event like death. Shoot, Angus was still waiting for an answer and him standing in silence was just going to leave more time for him to get himself worried. "So, uh, I sorta died. But, you know. I'm fine." He tried to sound nonchalant and optimistic, when they both knew optimism was about the least Taako-like emotion he could choose to express.

Taako hadn't been prepared for any outcome of this interaction, really. He was just winging it. He figured Angus might have some sort of adverse reaction, considering the situation. Though he wouldn't have at that age, or maybe even at his current age. He'd been used to it by fifteen. But where he grew callous in some places, he also grew raw in others, and this kid was different from him. Even if their life, or more accurately, death, events were the same, which they weren't, they were different people. Still, Taako hadn't been prepared for Angus to break into tears for what felt like the first time in a solid year. So, he acted on instinct and pulled his crying boy into his arms, trying to make himself solid and _there,_ despite worrying that his ghost-body would shock or burn him.

Maybe Taako had known this would happen. Maybe that's why he put it off for all those hours.

"I-I'm sorry, sir. I don't know where that came from," Angus managed to say in between stifled sobs. Angus was a quiet crier, always had been. It made Taako's heart break in a way it never did for himself. "I-it's stupid. I-I'm not- I shouldn't be sad. You're right _here,_ I don't know _why-"_ He was cut off by another sob.

"Hey- Hey, kid, you're fine. I'm fine. It's okay to cry." Taako knew those exact phrases never worked to convince him as a kid, but maybe they'd miraculously work this time. Angus didn't respond with anything but a sniffle and a lean into the hug. Angus didn't tend to hug back, not because he was uncomfortable or unappreciative, so he'd said, but because he liked it better when he could just scrunch his arms close to his chest and be held. They stood like that for a long time, Taako rubbing Angus's back in slow, firm circles, not needing to waste a thought on whether his shirt would be drenched. Not that he thought much about that when he still had a body. Taako continued the needless, exaggerated rise and fall of his chest, hoping his dead self could remind his boy to take deep breaths. Angus followed the movement, interrupted as it was by sobs and hiccups. Eventually, the crying was reduced to a few tears and a nose in desperate need of a kleenex. Taako pulled away a bit, careful to telegraph his movements so Angus could follow him if he wanted.

Angus squinted up at him through still-red eyes. "Why are you taller than me?"

Taako looked down and realized that, though his feet were still firmly on the ground, and he wasn't even wearing heels, he had somehow manifested as a good few inches taller than Angus. "Shoot, sorry, kid. Force of... habit? I guess?" He focused on the desk. It was supposed to be at waist-height, he knew. When he looked back at Angus, he had to tilt his chin up a bit to see his face, just like the last time he visited. Taako was sure he'd never get used to this kid's height.

Angus got a little laugh out of that, even if it was choked up and phlegmy. "How- What's going on? Why are you a ghost?"

Taako winced dramatically. "Well, it's a bit of a _whole thing._ Not really a long story, but it's an out-there one.

"You know I'm smart enough to follow it," Angus said.

Taako smiled. "Yeah. So, listen, I died, but I'm not allowed in the astral sea because I'm an alien? So now I'm trying to become a god."

"A god?" Angus asked. "A god of what?"

Taako shrugged. "Fuck if I know. I know it's kinda... not sure if there's a turn of phrase I can use here, but, collecting followers before even posting the content? But I'm a celebrity, so it'll _probably_ work."

"Oh," Angus said. A sad realization seemed to dawn on him. "So, I guess I'll have my Thursday afternoons free." He visibly tried not to slump, but only half-succeeded.

"No, no, Angus, I don't wanna miss out on magic day. I mean, it might get busy for me for a few weeks, but, scout's honor, I'll do my best to see you during that time. Can't let Lucas taint your views on matter creation and conjuration."

Angus hmm'd. "I don't know. Miss Copperlung makes some good points about magic substance theory."

"You're killin' me, kid. I can't believe this rift that's formed. Soon we'll be writing passive-aggressive competing academic papers."

Angus looked lost in thought for a few seconds. "You never told me how you died," he said, tilting his head curiously.

"Eugh, yeah. You don't need to know that."

"Was it..." He glanced around, leaning in excitedly. "...murder?"

Taako let out a bark of laughter, ruffling his hair. "Nope. Just my own dang allergies. Sorry to disappoint, pumpkin."

His face fell a bit. "Oh. It was just peanuts?"

Taako lightly shoved his arm. "Hey, don't sound so disappointed."

"I'm not," Angus said disappointedly, yawning behind his hand.

Taako chuckled as Angus sat back at his desk chair, probably to keep chipping away on that paper he could easily finish up in the five minutes before class. His head was already starting to nod off. Taako slowly faded from view. "Get some sleep, Ango. You have school in the morning. And I have more people to visit tonight."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to everyone for the comments!! And for everyone who read my self-indulgent Dracula one-shot! Which might not be a one-shot anymore once this fic is done!


	9. Stage 9: Networking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three of many examples of the paranormal encounters the citizens of Faerun experienced on the night that Taako died. Not necessarily told in chronological order, probably maybe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a bit longer than I expected, but my school's giving us two weeks of Thanksgiving break this year, so I should have a lot more time to work on more chapters!

"Hey. Hey, kid."

A black-bearded dwarven girl (whose name was Sandra, and who was captain of her high school's archery team, but grappling with the fact that she needed at least a C in Common, her worst subject, to keep the position, (but Taako wouldn't ask about any of that)) shot into a sitting position with a deep, sleepy inhale, eyes still closed. "Pa?"

"Nope, not your dad."

The girl's eyes blinked open sloppily, not fully registering the glowing specter of Taako in front of her, but immediately focusing on the time shown on the glowing alarm clock sitting on her bedside table. "'S two a.m, too early," she slurred as she let her upper body drop back onto her mountain of pillows.

"No, hey, wake up. I've got something important to tell you," Taako said, snapping his fingers in her face to keep her focused. The girl grumbled and pulled the covers over her head. Huffing impatiently, Taako cast Prestidigitation to lower the temperature of her comforter by a good forty or fifty degrees. She shot up with her eyes fully open and alert this time, kicking the freezing blanket off of her with a sharp inhale through her teeth.

"Holy shit! Okay, I'm up! Wait..." She scrutinized Taako, searching blearily for where she knew him from. "Are you... Lup Taaco?"

Taako tilted his hand in a "so-so" motion. "Hnnng, close. It is I, Taako T. Wizard, and I have chosen you... uh... child, to spread a message for me."

She scoffed, slapping her bedside table in search for her glasses. "I'm not a _child,_ I'm seventeen."

"Oh, so you're a toddler. Listen, kid, I'm like three hundred years old, everyone under fifty's a child. So!" He clapped his hands together in front of himself. "You look like you know a few people. Have like... friends? And all that good stuff highschoolers have?"

She scowled, still rummaging through the many trinkets on her table. "Yeah, I've got friends. I'm captain of the archery team."

"Oh, nice, you're one of those cool jocks that doesn't need to run. So, here's the dealio. I'm a spooky omen-thing, and you totally saw me, and you're gonna tell, like, _everyone_ about it, right?"

She raised an eyebrow. "How do I know you're the real Taako, and not just some kind of poltergeist? Or a sleep paralysis demon?"

"Okay, rude. First of all, I am _way_ too cute to be a sleep paralysis demon. Second..." He stared intently at the wall for a second. "Okay, I didn't actually have a second thing, but I'm _not_ a poltergeist. Which I _know_ is exactly what a poltergeist would say, but hey pal, it's also exactly what a _not-poltergeist_ would say. Listen, either I'm a poltergeist or not, you still gotta tell everyone you saw me. I'm handing you a free story to tell! Go get that high school social capital!"

Her hand finally closed around her glasses, already smudged from a few false negatives she'd made during her search. She slid them on, not bothering to clean them. "Is this... viral marketing? Are you putting out a movie and you didn't wanna spend a lot of money on a trailer?"

"Nah. Well-" He tilted his head, considering. "-it _is_ sort of viral marketing, but it's not for a movie. See, I've been in talks with the Raven Queen-"

"Sorry, who?"

Taako sputtered. "The-uh-the Raven Queen? Ruler of the Astral Plane? Goddess of natural death?"

She shook her head. "Never heard of her. Maybe she's not a dwarf thing."

"Huh. Well, she's a goddess, and I'm a super cool dude who saved every universe, so, yeah, we talk. And there's a good chance of me, like, ascending, or some shit. Listen, I probably shouldn't be telling you this all straightforward-like, should probably leave something to the imagination, drum up more speculation, but honestly that feels wrong? Like, I don't wanna be worshipped with misconceptions floating around?"

She nodded slowly. "I mean, yeah. You're a public figure. There's probably a ton of misconceptions already floating around. I probably believe some of them. Not, like, the _wild_ ones, like the 'you keep loose pudding in your pockets' thing, or the "that one goth guy you bring to parties is actually an ancient eldritch being" thing, 'cause they're stupid and I don't have the slightest clue how they got started, but, like, you _do_ have a secret kid, right? That theory has something behind it?"

Taako laughed to himself. "I'm torn between telling you not to believe everything you overhear and telling you to give some credibility to everything you overhear. So, uh, just tell your friends I said, like, something ominous and profound? Like... I don't know, I don't usually say a lot of ominous or profound stuff."

"Nah, you say a ton of ominous and profound stuff. Like, maybe, and I'm just spitballing here, 'Sandra, you're destined for great things, and if you are kicked from your position as archery team leader, Stephanie _fucking_ Hutcherson's gonna bring it to ruin, and also Mr. Betty should be fired for not giving her a B on her Fantasy Lord of the Flies essay'?"

"Well, obviously not, it has to be at least a little realistic."

"Damn, you didn't even read that essay. It was worth a C-plus, at least. Didn't know you were this rude."

He shrugged, putting a hand under his chin to accentuate his innocent smile. "It's a feature, not a bug."

Sandra pinched the bridge of her nose. "So, am I... a prophet, now? What's the deal, here? Because I think that'd really conflict with my school stuff, I have an honors math class to deal with on top of being close to flunking Common."

"Mmm, nah. After you get the word out, you don't have to be involved if you don't want to. Would appreciate it if you could chuck some cupcakes in the fireplace for me. Don't just burn them in the oven and retroactively say they were for me, though, I'll know, and I'll fuckin' smite you."

Sandra crossed her arms. "What, no boon?"

"Geez, kid, you wanna certificate? A signed eight-by-ten? I'm a ghost! I can barely keep my not-body consistently corporeal, you expect me to have my PR go-bag on me?"

"Wow, okay. _Don't_ give anything to the person you're asking a huge favor of. Fine."

"Alright, will you consider a Sleep charm payment enough? Since you're so unwilling to do anything out of the goodness of your heart, for the safety and wellbeing of someone who indirectly saved your life and the lives of everyone you know and love?"

Sandra primly pulled her glasses off of her face and set them back on the bedside table, once again lost amongst the mess. "I'll allow it. Considering I was so _rudely_ woken up on a _school night._ Seriously, aren't you supposed to be a principal or something?"

Taako rolled his eyes and cast Sleep. Maybe she'd find a cooler version of this conversation in her dreams.

***

A scene opens in a forest. Not a dark, scary forest to get lost and murdered in, or a mundane forest one might expect ambiance from and be disappointed in its unabashed naturality, but a weirdly well-lit, saturated forest, one which might be found on the cover of a middle-grade book that heavily featured fairies. This specific part of the forest was shaped into something like a living area, with vines and untampered wood twisting to form a bed that no one who lived here could sleep on, a set of a table and chairs that looked to be made out of incredibly sturdy mushrooms, and a cluttered vanity and stool, on which, Taako saw, a figure sat cross-legged, admiring their reflection. Or perhaps admiring the disturbingly present Fantasy Home and Gardens magazine cutout with Merle's face on it.

The figure was humanoid in silhouette, but not in many other regards. Their skin was ashen-white and covered in black spots that looked like eyes. Heck, they may very well have _been_ eyes, considering how they didn't look too different from the spots on the figure's face. Instead of hair, tall branches grew out the top of their head. Instead of clothes, parts of the figure's own wooden body formed around them in an imitation of a floor-length robe. They perked up upon Taako's appearance.

"Ah! You're the spirit of Taako the wizard, aren't you?" Their voice was surprisingly rough, like they were talking around a sore throat.

Taako blinked in surprise. "I think I prefer the term 'ghost,' but yeah. Taako's, uh, me."

They beamed. Their mouth was a simple concavity in their face, with no difference in the bark that was supposed to be skin and bark that was supposed to be inside-mouth-stuff. "So it's true you've passed on! We had a feeling. But-" They gazed at him with wide eyes, expression unreadable. "Not completely, so it seems. Interesting..."

Taako coughed. "Yeah, I, uh, didn't have a reservation booked ahead of time. Uh, what do mean you 'had a feeling?'"

The tree-person hummed, smiling. "We're connected to everything. Everyone is, but we-" They laid a hand on their chest. "-know it better." They cocked their head. "I wonder how you connect, being not of this plane."

A meddlesome thought tried to worm its way into Taako's head and disturb his recent streak of strictly _not_ thinking about _anything._ "Okay! I did not come here to have another existential crisis! I finished all of those up in my college years!" The tree person nodded in a "fair enough" gesture. "So, you've got... a lot of connections, right?"

They nodded slowly. "Yes, if you want to look at it that way. If you tell me something, you tell us something."

"Cool, so, no pressure on me, I guess," Taako said, suddenly nervous. "So, uh, you already figured out I'm dead, but there's a way you, yes _you,_ can keep this beloved idiot alive, and no, it's not through remembering shit and keeping him in your hearts, it's by appointing me as your personal lord and savior, if you haven't already, but in a more deific sense! Again, if you haven't already."

They nodded, scratching their chin thoughtfully. "Okay. Good pitch, first of all. But I'm thinking you need to be a bit clearer about your domain. Right now, you're coming off as just a 'god of Taako,' and that's fine! But it leaves a lot of interpretation as to what 'Taako' is. Nothing wrong with being symbolic of yourself, pretty much everyone is, but when you're a god, and _all_ you are is a symbol? When your very personality could be up to interpretation? Do you have a plan on how you will hold onto your self?"

Taako scratched at his forearm. The rules surrounding his ghost form were hella stupid. He could fly and walk through walls, but he could still get itchy and his legs still hurt? Ludicrous. "I dunno, you're not my therapist. What do you know of it?"

They hummed. "I don't say this as some random outsider who knows nothing of this subject. I'm symbolic too, you know."

His eyebrows raised in mild surprise. "Really?"

"Yeah, of these woods, of nature, of-" They gestured around themself. "-us. I get into heavily symbolic battles with industrious types and tempt wanderers away from their homes with my mystifying wiles, that sort of thing. Maybe I did that just because it was fun at first, but dang if my stories don't make for apt metaphors about the inherent dangerous wanderlust of living close to a magical forest. Only difference between me and a god is that gods get worshipped."

"Huh." Taako thought this over, toying with a necklace he didn't remember putting on. "Why don't you become one? Get some followers, get worshipped. With your whole aesthetic? Doesn't seem like it'd be too hard."

They laughed. "Thank you, but I don't really feel like it. I'm already functionally immortal, anyway. A squishy, short-lived human or elf who's a symbol? Yeah, they might want to work on setting up the incredibly specific circumstances they need to become a god. Unless, of course, they're meant to be a symbol of hubris and it backfires horribly. But I don't need to worry about that because as long as the forest exists, I exist. Strength in numbers, and all that."

Taako took a long pause at that, turned it over in his mind. Filed it away for future incorporation into his quickly-growing view on whatever the fuck 'godhood' meant. "Sweet. Listen, I've gotta go, I have a ton of people to visit tonight, and I promised myself that if I do another three of these, I'll head to a gas station and treat myself to a moonpie. Been great chatting, spread the word and pour one out for me, you know what to do."

"Ah, wait! Before you go-" Seemingly in fast-motion, a new leaf grew on one of their head-branches. They plucked it off, and pressed it into Taako's hand, winking as they did. There was a stone number engraved into its veins, beside a couple of hearts, and a little picture of a flower that he did not feel comfortable looking at for some reason. "Pass this on to Merle for me?"

"Sure." He shoved the leaf into one of his ghost-pockets, out of sight, out of mind. If it wasn't there when he got back because of weird ghost physics, no great loss to him.

***

It had been a long while since Taako had been within the walls of an elven citadel. There were a few times he'd been invited into one for Sizzle it Up! but he couldn't remember ever living in one, or even staying in one overnight. They did exist on Tusun, and as young sun elves, still with some of their baby teeth left, he and Lup probably would have been welcome into their pick of citadel, just for the free charity points. They never did. For all of their lying awake in both mental and physical pain wishing for it all to _stop,_ wishing they just had somewhere they could be _safe_ for once, they never gave the citadels a thought until they were too old to be so easily admitted.

The room was large, about as large as Taako's living room/dining room/kitchen open floor plan combo. This room came across as much larger, though, with how tidy and uncluttered it was. On a tall, half-moon-shaped meditation bed sat an elven child in a fleece nightgown, staring into space with his eyes clouded over. His ears didn't even twitch as Taako manifested right in his line of sight. Taako had never seen someone so young in such deep meditation, which admittedly wasn't saying much, considering his only references were himself and his sister.

A quick Prestidigitation made a stream of thick, almost opaque fog appear from behind Taako and quickly roll over the hardwood floor. The kid didn't move. "Hey, wake up! I got some cool shit to say!"

The kid blinked slowly, then quickly. His eyes widened to a size that Taako assumed had to be unhealthy. "You- You're Taako!" He clumsily scrambled to jump off the meditation bed and rush over to Taako. His hands twitched and rose in front of him like he wanted to offer a handshake, but either chickened out or suddenly noticed his current translucence. His eyes darted around Taako's spectral form like he was a table full of every one of the kid's favorite things, too many to focus on. "A-am I dreaming? Why are you here? Oh golly. I-I know about _all_ your adventure! Er, I mean, I guess everyone does, b-but I've read all your books! The aphorisms one, mostly, but the cookbooks are really nice too! I love the pictures. I've never made any of the recipies, though. Mother says I'm not allowed to use the stove until I've graduated my seventh year at school."

Taako let out a surprised scoff. "Really? Dang, that's some bullshit, huh? I was cooking with a fuckin' flambé torch years before I was your age. Got the scars to prove it."

The kid's whole body was shaking at this point. "Oh gosh. Oh, golly. It really is you! It's really Taako!" Taako could almost see the billions of things rushing around this kid's head. "I'm going to get a degree in media production and marketing because of you! It's supposed to be a very lucrative industry right now. Mother says I should make friends with Callindafel across the street because she's going to study business and law, and I should convince Sintelifenn a few blocks over to get into graphic design instead of those silly watercolor paintings. Golly, I have so many startup pitches to show you! Oh no, but they're not done!" He sounded distraught. "I thought I'd have more time before I met the actual Taako the wizard! I'm gonna be just like you when I grow up, I swear!"

Taako barely understood any of what he just heard, with the breakneck speed it was said. He didn't know whether he should chuckle appreciatively, chuckle awkwardly, or make one of his usual noises of mild dismissal. He settled for a mix of all three. "Okay. Calm down, kid, you're like, twelve."

"I'm ten!"

"Even better!" Taako sighed, hastily scripting in his head what he would say to this kid. "Listen, sometimes consistencies in your goals are important, but you don't have to tie yourself down to adult stuff at eleven years old. Especially not because of someone else. This is your only chance to be a kid, and you seem lucky enough to have a space to do that. Y'know, I've seen the tapestry of fate, and you know what it says about the future? Fuckin' zilch! There's just like, the strings that're hanging out in the prime spaces for weaving. Or however that works. I've never actually woven anything? I could be fudging that metaphor." The whole spiel was generic as fuck for him, but in his experience with giving advice to fans, generic was always better than full-on _bad._

"I've never woven anything, either, but it sounds good to me. Golly, you're even wiser in person!"

That brought a genuine chuckle out of him. "First time hearing that one," Taako muttered. "But you get what I'm saying, right? It's fine to look up to me, I guess. You could deffo do a lot worse, in terms of role models, and I'm not gonna lie and say it's not a _huge_ ego boost, but you know what the Taako Way _really_ is?" He knelt down to the kid's height, bracing his hands on his knees. "It's doing whatever the fuck you want, and not caring what anyone thinks, or whether it'll be useful in the future. It's just living in the moment, little man."

"Wowie. Thanks for telling me this, Taako! You didn't have to go all out of your way to find me and impart a life lesson like that."

"Oh, shit, that's not what I'm here for. Uh..." He set off another Prestidigitation to turn the now wispy and weak fog thick and rolling once again. Another Prestidigitation made his voice a bit more deep and echo-y (he'd learned the hard way a few trips ago that his voice just couldn't cut it without the help of magic). He slowly floated so he was a foot above the ground. "My child, I come to you with an important message. A message from... _beyond the grave."_ A shock of bright purple light swept through the fog around them. The kid was slack-jawed, absolutely enamored. Taako sighed internally. Just a few more of these things, and he'd be good to go back to his sister's house and wait for the headlines.


	10. Stage 10: Waiting and Wading

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one has Angus and Vinnie in it, y'all. A bit of fluff before the coming chapters.

Lup and Barry's house was a bit larger than Kravitz and Taako's, but it was also a lot less ostentatious. Where Taako littered the yard with colorful crystal balls on cement pedestals and cheap metal statues that either looked like they belonged in a college stoner's unfinished basement, or in the flower garden of an eccentric grandma, and where Kravitz built and painted veritable duchies of bird houses, and somehow overnight erected a spooky stone tower that could only be accessed by a secret door in his study's bookshelf, Lup and Barry made great efforts to keep themselves away from the neighborhood's - and the general public's - eye, doubly so now that they had kids. They kept the lawn chairs made of bones solely indoors.

Taako and Kravitz's kitchen was in desperate need of a deep, professional clean, and they all had a habit of staying at each other's houses anyway, so it was only natural that they stay with Lup and Barry for as long as it took for the whole ordeal to be worked out. That meant, among other things, that they had to bring over their three precious itty bitty kitties, and pray that Lup and Barry's beast of a border collie wouldn't decide to use bits of Fluffy as a chew toy, or that the cats wouldn't decide to team up with Joggy to wreak havoc on the household. Or, more havoc on the household than usual.

"I'm torn between thinking these devious bastards are too dumb to coordinate the level of chaos I'm worried about, or thinking their dumbness will just cause _more_ chaos," Lup pondered as she watched Cham _purr_ ado walk cautiously out of his carrier, only to immediately be startled under a couch by a small creature that scurried too fast to catch a good glimpse of.

"Nah, nah, Cham _purr_ ado gets into stuff because he's a dumbass, Fluffy gets into stuff because they actively want to be a menace," Taako said, gently rubbing the top of Fluffy's skull.

"And Miss Midnight Banshee's a precious angel, she's just loud," Kravitz agreed. As if on cue, Miss Midnight Banshee yowled from the table legs she had been exploring, and sprinted for the nearby stairs, arguably a much better hiding place than under the couch, where her orange-haired compatriot was still cowering. Fluffy watched all of this with mild amusement from the safety of Taako's shoulder, not even registering its lack of corporeality.

"Do you guys have a mouse infestation, or what? Even Champy doesn't usually get this jumpy. Unless Fluffy's up to something." He glanced suspiciously at the skele-cat on his shoulder, who was sitting prim and innocent as ever.

"Mmm, something like that," she said, crouching to look for the creature running around.

Kravitz leaned down, raising an eyebrow. "Lup, you know you're not allowed to have unregistered undead servants or pets. I don't care how 'Fantasy Addams Family' you aspire to be."

"I _know, Krav,_ it's not that. Just a _bit_ of a pest problem. Kind of. Maybe there's a _little_ magic involved," she said. "Hey, why don't you check out the new refurbishing job we did to the guest bathroom? It has _sconces_ now. With real fire."

This did nothing to un-raise Kravitz's eyebrow. "Sounds lovely. And dangerous. And like you're trying to get me out of the room."

She leaned on her hand, sighing dramatically. "Oh, please, dear Kravitz, may I speak with my darling dead baby brother in private for just a mo'? Just a teensy sec?"

"We're the _same age,"_ Taako said predictably.

Kravitz straightened up. "Okay, I get it. You two can get your twin time in. If I see any skeleton butlers walking around, though, I'm snitching." He gave Lup a pointed glance, followed by an exasperated smile to Taako, and followed Miss Midnight Banshee upstairs, their suitcase levitating beside him. As if it knew Kravitz couldn't see it anymore, a severed, but clean human hand scurried across the floor, scaring Cham _purr_ ado into sprinting down the hallway. A dull _thunk_ came from that direction seconds afterwards, which was par for the course when he sprinted anywhere.

Not as ginger as many would be while picking up a possibly-decaying hand, Lup scooped it up off the ground as it crawled, careful to support it by the palm. Taako got the distinct impression that this was not his sister's first time picking up a lone, dubiously-originating hand, which shouldn't have been surprising. Just as she was inspecting it, Vinnie peeked her head out from the hallway, just a bit sheepish. Lup raised her eyebrows at her, fighting back a smile. "Nice spell structure you got here, looks like all the muscles are working nicely, even with the..." Its fingers unnaturally wriggled and twisted, trying to gain purchase on Lup's own hand. "-creative way it has to move. Unfortunately, we're gonna have to take this little guy to the brig for being-alive-when-it's-not-supposed-to crimes." Lup carefully deposited it into Vinnie's open palms.

Vinnie cradled it close to her chest. "Well, _technically,_ it's not actually alive. It can't reproduce, grow and develop, _or_ metabolize, so..."

"Using magical energy can absolutely be counted as metabolization, even if it's a one-time boost at the moment of resurrection, and you know that. Now go either put that in the backyard or dispel whatever spell you've got going. You don't wanna exhaust your spell slots before Angus comes over."

With a slightly disappointed, but mostly dramatic sigh, Vinnie carried the hand to the door of the sun porch. Not one to give up the last word, she called out, "I can hear that you're secretly proud of me for this!"

Also not one to give up the last word, Lup called out just as Vinnie closed the door behind her, "Maybe so! Doesn't negate the fact that it can't be inside the house!"

Fluffy, now bored that the excitement was over, leaped off of Taako's shoulder to find another animal to antagonize. Taako leaned an elbow on Lup's shoulder. Even in ghost-form, Lup realized, his joints were sharp enough to pierce the skin if he wasn't careful. "So, am I like... not allowed to mention all the magic shenanigans _you_ got into at her age, or..."

Lup shoved him. "Bleh. Wish I didn't have to 'enforce ethics' into my kids. It'd be fuckin' hard enough if Vinnie didn't know what I was feeling half of the time. I can only imagine the mixed messages."

Taako smirked. "For what it's worth, I think you did great. Not sure _I'm_ the best parenting authority you can get that from, but still. Feels important to put boundaries on where and how she can do magic, but still letting her do kinda fucked-up necromancy stuff. Seems like good, uh, emotional release, or whatever."

"Yeah, it's like a control thing, right? Like, oh, I have power over this thing, I can make it do whatever I want, except it's not an actual living being, so it's not, like, destructive or anything. I think."

"For sure. Better than her, like, taking out feelings on people around her. Plus, free magic experience."

Lup sighed, leaning all the way back against the top of the couch so she was looking up at the ceiling. "I swear, as soon as those kids have a firm-ass grasp on right and wrong, I'm letting them loose in the best lab I can find and sitting back to record the results."

" _Both_ of them? Dav can't even cast a Mage Hand yet."

"Dav has ten relatives that he sees on a regular basis, and exactly _one_ of them is a non-spellcaster. He's bound to pick something up. Plus he's doing this _Early Merlin_ program, it's supposed to simulate the parts of the brain that make that good good magic happen. One of those dvd box set plus activity kit dealios. Doesn't teach _real-ass magic,_ but it's a start."

Taako scratched his cheek in thought. "We did fine without that stuff, though, right?"

Lup shrugged. "Well, yeah, but it can't hurt. Barry did something similar when he was a kid. Mortal peril does a lot to help you pick up new tricks real fast, but dang if it doesn't mess you up more often than not."

The crackling sound of a fire followed by a shriek of laughter sounded from a window, specifically one looking over the backyard. Lup chuckled as she watched Vinnie chase after a somehow-harmless bouncing living flame and the severed hand, prancing, running and scuttling, respectively, around the yard with abandon.

Taako turned to Lup, resting his chin in his hand. "You know who she reminds me of," he said.

Lup nodded, smile shallowing. "Reminds me of stories about Mom."

He bit the inside of his cheek. "Yeah." They dropped that conversation.

***

Taako was good with patience, but only under very specific circumstances. Playing the waiting game was only difficult if he had constant reminders that he was waiting. Which, with the general weirdness happening directly to him and his kind-of-body, he was receiving in spades. So, with a quick debrief with Kravitz and Lup, and a promise to be home in time to help with dinner, he faded out of the house to "conduct some business," whatever that meant. Angus arrived shortly after.

Joggy, unfortunately, had to be banished to the sun porch and backyard for trying to snatch one of Fluffy's legs. Angus and Vinnie elected to do their study session on the sun porch in solidarity. It was dreadfully hot, especially for Angus in his starched, long-sleeved button-up, brocaded waistcoat and wool slacks, and for Vinnie, who routinely refused to not wear her favorite sweater, but some home-squeezed lemonade and a couple of Prestidigitations to make their chairs cooler did wonders. Angus was set up with three different textbooks, one of which he wasn't even sure was given to him by his school, five spiral notebooks covered in band stickers and scratchy pen doodles, and a pile of overstuffed folders so tall it couldn't even fit in his satchel without magical interference. Bags weren't technically allowed to have enchantments on them at the academy, but Angus was willing to be a little rebel rule-breaker in the name of carrying around a well-maintained antique black leather satchel.

Vinnie was half-absorbed in a paperback. The sheet of questions she was supposed to be filling out as she read lay untouched on the table in front of her. Sometimes, she'd read a sentence, make a face, then flip back a few pages, reversing her progress. Angus felt the need to interfere in some way, he was here to guide her into learning good study habits, after all.

"What are you reading?" It was a stock question, he knew, and one he had, in the many times he'd been asked, either shirked answering in favor of continuing to read, or answered too much, interrupting both his reading and the flummoxed, unprepared asker's day in favor of the most energetic, detailed description of a young adult book they'd hear in their lives. Even as he asked it, he cringed a bit on how disingenuous a question he knew it was.

"The Secret Garden," she stated plainly, giving up on reading and sliding a bookmark in place. She leaned forward to look through her question sheet. "It's good, but it's hard."

Angus nodded. "They wrote really differently back then. It can take a lot of getting used to. But, you know, it's worth it."

"I'm sure. It's like, I think I like the story a lot, but I don't like reading it."

"Ah, have you read it before?"

"Oh yeah, lots of times. Or, I've tried to, at least. I have to start over a lot. I've read the first few chapters a lot, but I've only read the last chapters once or twice, and I didn't really get them. I borrowed a copy from a library a while ago, but I kept it for too long and couldn't pay the fine, so I just kept it and moved out of that city. I'm pretty sure that was when Dav was still a baby. I'm not sure where that copy ended up."

Angus chuckled quietly. "That was me with Caleb Cleveland. All the books, really. I'd erase or put white-out on the card and put it in the drop-box in the middle of the night just so there wasn't a chance of needing to pay up."

She looked up at him curiously. "Oh, you read Caleb Cleveland?"

A familiar jolt went through his chest, and he confronted it as he usually did. "Well, as a kid. I don't read them anymore, of course."

"Oh." She turned back to her question sheet, tapping a pencil against it. Angus was about to get around to cracking open his ritual homework when Vinnie spoke up. "Do you think it's weird that every kid in these kinds of books are orphans? Or their parents aren't mentioned at all? Parents are pretty important."

Angus put down his pen. It wasn't a new question, of course. He'd asked it more than a few times in his life as a reader. It didn't mean he'd thought up a fitting answer, though. "I dunno. I mean, it's kind of easy to forget _we're_ orphans, huh? Or, easy to forget being an orphan isn't normal to most people. We don't really have much to compare it to."

Vinnie hummed. "I think I'm learning. To have something to compare it to, I mean. It's weird. This-" She gestured around the room. "-is how most kids live. Or, you know, something like this. It's..." She clenched her fingers. "...you know. Weird. Especially because _everyone_ knows my parents and uncles and aunts, it's all _weird._ But not really, because now I think I'm getting _used_ to it? Even with uncle Taako's whole new 'death' thing, it all feels normal. Like, I'm fine. Except for the nightmares, but I've always had those."

Angus shrugged, not entirely sure of what to say. "Sometimes people just get adopted, and it's totally smooth sailing from there. Not often, but sometimes. I've actually read about this before, that once you're in a safe, healthy environment and have people that can help you, you can bounce back surprisingly well. Don't know how I feel about people taking that as meaning 'everything's completely fine all the time after that, no hiccups,' but I think it lines up alright with my personal experience."

He didn't mention that he never called Taako or Kravitz "dad" or any variation thereof because it felt childish. That it felt strange and embarrassing to admit to even one of the strongest connections he had. As if having parents was strictly a children's thing. He also didn't mention his own past nightmares, or his tendency to keep people at arm's length.

"Hm?" Vinnie perked up, laying her pencil down and turning towards the corner of the porch.

"What is it?" Angus asked, looking in the same direction.

"I think Pete's trying to say something." Pete was a small willow tree that used to live in Vinnie's room, but he'd outgrown his small pot in a matter of weeks. Now he was scraping the ceiling of the highest point in the sun porch. It wouldn't be long before he had to be moved outside.

"What is he trying to say?"

Her face contorted in concentration. "I don't know, I can barely read thoughts when they're coming from _people._ I can't be expected to read them when they're coming from a whole different kingdom. It's a whole different language."

Angus leaned forward. "Interesting. So, plants have thoughts?"

Vinnie shrugged. "I mean, probably not. When I say 'different language,' what I mean is less 'I speak Common, he speaks Goblin,' and more 'I think with images and sounds and textures, he thinks with...'" She pursed her lips. "I don't know. Something else entirely. Like Miss Raven Queen, but hers are all echo-y, and Pete's are all slow."

The mention of the Raven Queen brought a suddenly burdensome question to his mind. "Can-um, can you still hear Taako's thoughts?"

She looked at him like he'd offered to cut her food up for her, or something equally condescending. "Yeah, of course. He's not _dead._ He's just not alive."

"Ah." It did sound a bit childishly simple when she put it like that. The first rule of language is that categories mean nothing in the face of the things being put in them. 'There are always edge cases,' as Taako might say. Angus returned to his homework, and Vinnie to her absent reading.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're about to be sort of in the home stretch, folks. Next is The Istus Chat Chapter!  
> 1 comment = 1 pseudo-social interaction I get to have that isn't awkward and with distant relatives over for a meal at which I will only eat the bread rolls.  
> (it occurs to me that the last few lines are maybe confusing kind of! here's my thought process: properties of life=A Thing, thing doesn't meet properties of life? not alive. some things meet some properties, not others, enough to raise questions about the whole system. everyone goes wild. is both alive and not alive, by virtue of the fact the people who define life cannot agree. the being itself is not affected by its assigned life or lack thereof. yes i am talking about viruses they're my favorite little creatures in theory but not in practice this probably cleared up Absolutely Nothing thank you for coming to my 5 am existential pondering)


	11. Stage 11: Unidentifiable Emotion, Seemingly Untied to Any Emotional Reaction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What are Kravitz, Lup, and Barry up to?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops! I lied. No Istus in this chapter, just sadness. I did some last-minute formatting changes, so Istus chapter is going to be after this.

The kids were preoccupied and supervised outside with Joggy, the door was shut, and the walls were silenced. Kravitz, Barry, and Lup were gathered in the office, a cozy room with windows just dirty enough to make the sunlight bearably dimmed. The bookcases jammed into every non-window wall were filled with more knick knacks and strange artifacts floating in jars of liquid than books. A pile of construction paper and markers stained with tiny colorful fingerprints lay in one corner, dangerously close to a copy of _The Raising of Animals: A guide to Undead Dogs, Deer, and Dragon Turtles,_ Kravitz noticed. He tapped his fingers thoughtfully on his armrest as Lup and Barry settled into their spinning office chairs, Lup getting her obligatory side-to-side swivel out of the way. Kravitz seemed quiet and distracted, despite being the one to arrange this meeting.

"So," Lup started, clapping her hands in front of her. "Is there a reason for this little Death Squad Meeting? Do we need to go back to work or..." She raised an eyebrow.

Kravitz blinked quickly, snapping out of his daze. "No, no, there's nothing... immensely pressing. I just feel like we haven't really... talked. About what happened, and what's going to happen. Vis a vis Taako's death. And, as your senior, I should be there for you, to coach you through this probably very difficult time."

Lup laughed, not unsympathetically, leaning back in her seat. "You can cut the professionalism, Krav. If you want emotional support 'cause this is the first time you've had to deal with your fiance beefing it, you can just ask."

Barry nodded. "Yeah, we've got pretty ample experience in mourning in general, but also just mourning for Taako, specifically. You may be our boss, but you're also our friend, Krav, and our family. You can let us help you."

Kravitz shifted in his seat, uncrossing his legs self-consciously. "Ah. Yes, that makes sense. Thank you for the offer, but it won't be necessary. I've been doing this job for a long time. It'd be senseless to need to cope with..." _Himself._ "Anyway. If mentorly support is unneeded, there's another reason I need to talk to you. Maybe you can help me with this."

Barry shrugged nonchalantly. "Shoot."

Kravitz coughed. "Well, The Raven Queen wants me to take her place as a god."

Lup and Barry blinked in surprise. "Oh. Uh, congrats," Lup said. "I didn't know that was something she could do."

Kravitz nodded, rubbing his face. "I didn't either, until she told me. I didn't really know-" He inhaled. "I didn't know she was fading."

"To be fair, bud, we didn't, either."

Kravitz chuckled. "You're not from here." He sighed and slumped in the chair, allowing himself to be just a bit dramatic in his pose. "It makes sense, I suppose. The only people I really talked to before I met you lot were bounties. It would make sense for them to learn about their biggest threat. Even then, a good chunk of them didn't even know who The Raven Queen was. They did know who I was, though."

A silence settled over the three reapers. The thing about a silence is that it can never be objectively organized as "tense" or "comfortable" or "awkward." What type of silence it is depends on who, of the participants of the silence, you choose to ask. For Kravitz it was a silence of expectation, waiting for a response, waiting for it to sink in. For Barry, it was an awkward silence, as Barry interpreted most silences around him as somehow awkward. He was waiting for Lup to break it, as she was usually the one to do that. For Lup, it was a tense silence. Kravitz's words were familiar to her.

"What happened to her?"

Kravitz shrugged, not an "I don't know" shrug, but an "I don't fully know, this is just an educated guess, so take what I'm about to say with a grain of salt" shrug. "She's just not being worshipped as much anymore."

"But, wait," Lup said, putting a thoughtful pointer finger to her lips, brow furrowed. "If the Raven Queen's not being worshipped as much anymore, how come we're getting more reapers than ever? How come we're still being directly targeted by necromancers?"

Kravitz sighed. "I think it's like this: the Raven Queen, or, what she stands for, is still being somewhat worshipped, but The Raven Queen, as we know her, isn't. I have a feeling it may have something to do with the less anti-necromancy sentiments the general public seems to have adopted." He looks pointedly at the both of them. They both smirk, not even bothering to look guilty. "I believe that's why she's delegated to me." His voice slides low as he speaks, in a tired downward glissando.

Lup and Barry shared a _look._ Lup turned to Kravitz, eyebrows furrowed. "It sounds like you don't want to all that much, babe."

"No, I do," Kravitz said after a beat. "I'm... kind of already worshipped, if you can call it that? Less of a 'sweet sacrifices and architectural masterpieces built in my honor,' more of a 'fear' situation, but still. It would be an honor to take up the mantle of the Raven Queen, be a protector of the mortal world and the cycle of life and death. Not to mention that Taako's becoming a god, too, and it feels better to have two gods engaged than a god and a psychopomp... embodiment... you know. Those are usually portrayed with mortal lovers, and tragic, bittersweet endings. Two gods, though? They make an interesting story, a feedback loop of one's followers needing to follow the other, one's fame being shared.

"It could keep you from fading," Lup said quietly.

Kravitz nodded. "Yes. That's long-term, of course. If it's successful. Some last longer than the constellations they're based on, some last a few decades, and all that."

"I doubt Taako's going to fade too quickly, right?" Barry said.

"Of course. This could be my personal biases talking, but he's unforgettable. I have no doubt he'll succeed as a god."

Lup spoke up. "It's kind of fucked up that gods die only when they're forgotten. Like, it's scary to think that you won't be remembered _after_ you're gone, but it's not exactly common to be scared that no one will remember you _as_ you're going, huh?"

"You okay, Lup?" Barry asked. He readied himself to stand up, already knowing the answer.

"I think..." She sounded dazed, bordering on frantic. Her eyes looked like they wanted to dart around, but were cloudily staring at nothing. "I think I'm good for that emotional support, now."

Naturally, Barry's at her side in a second, Kravitz not far behind. He hovered for a second before Barry cocked his head pointedly in Lup's direction. Kravitz knelt awkwardly by her chair as Barry rested a hand between her shoulder blades, using his thumb to rub soothing circles into the knots near her neck. Her voice wavered.

"I mean, it's so callous and bad, but I was kinda already prepared for him to die? Like..." She picked at her cuticles, in an effort to not meet either of their eyes. "Death can be sad because it's shocking, but, if you're prepared for it, if you're warned in advance, it's... easier to deal with, you know? I know his death was pretty sudden, but I was kind of _always_ prepared for it. When we were kids, I was prepared to see him get shanked by a bored caravanner, I was prepared to sell his wand and clothes and make it on my own. Obviously, I didn't _want_ it to happen, but we never really got what we wanted, back then, did we?" Her hands were shaking. She scrubbed at her eyes with the back of her hand, but it came back dry. "Fuck, I can't even cry about my brother dying! I cried for Magnus back when we'd only known each other for a couple years!" She pressed the heels of her palms a bit too firmly into her forehead. Stray baby hairs got caught between her fingers, tugged painfully taut.

Kravitz didn't really know how to comfort her. He didn't really know how to comfort a lot of people in a lot of situations. This particular situation, especially. If he knew how, he could have done it to himself ages ago. "I... I don't think it ever crossed my mind that Taako would die. _Really_ die, I mean. I thought about it, obviously, I'm not naïve. But I always knew I'd somehow reverse it, 'fix' it. I never though of death as something to fix, before. I would have broken every law my queen had set, if I had to. I never..." He inhaled. "I never understood those kinds of necromancers, who'd tear their loved ones from their rest. I thought they were so selfish. And I suppose they are. I suppose it makes me callous, to see my hypothetical necromancy as justifiable, and theirs not so." He defaulted to connecting it to his personal problems. It wasn't the best strategy, when it worked it only helped a little, and when it didn't it made the person he was talking to feel belittled or downplayed. But Lup knew him, and he knew Lup. He hoped she'd know him well enough to catch what he was really saying.

"No, it doesn't make you callous. I think it just makes you human," Barry said, patting Kravitz's shoulder comfortingly. Kravitz decided that Barry was much better at comforting people than he was. He turned back to Lup. "Honey, you're not a bad person. Gods, you could never be a bad person. You love your brother so much, you wouldn't feel so torn up about this if you weren't, right?" With a practiced gentleness that could only be achieved by years of experience, he guided Lup's arms so her hands were away from her face. There were crescent indents left behind by nails in her scalp. Her face didn't show sadness, or fear, or anger. She just looked lost.

"I-" Lup said, deepening her breathing. "I'm sorry. For that. Guess I had more shit pent up than I thought."

Barry squeezed her hand. "There's nothing to be sorry for. Your brother died, probably for keeps this time. And you don't even get to have the closure of most deaths. I'm sorry I didn't realize you were hurting earlier."

That brought a breathy chuckle out of Lup. She rubbed at her eyes, tiredly, this time. "Dammit, Barry, don't _you_ go around apologizing for stuff that doesn't need it."

Kravitz bit the inside of his cheek, tilting his head in reflection. "I think..." Kravitz took a breath he didn't need and needed more than anything. He looked at the pair in front of him. "I think it's time for the Raven Queen to change hands."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woof! Hope y'all like Feelings, because that's all what these next few chapters are going to be. It all works out in the end, of course. Maybe not in the way people expect but... you know ;)  
> 1 comment = 1 spontaneous idea at four am that makes me haul my laptop into bed in a daze and burn my retinas trying to get it all down.


	12. Stage 12: Divine Intervention

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taako has a chat with Istus. He has some Feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Home stretch! Home stretch!

Taako supposed it was only a matter of time before he'd have to visit Istus again. She was really the only deity he talked to on a regular basis, besides the Raven Queen, of course. He didn't bother giving her a heads-up, it was a rare thing to catch a goddess of fate off-guard. When he willed himself to appear in front of her, she was already facing in his direction, and there was a coffee table full of tea things and oatmeal cookies prepared in front of him. Istus's domain was homey, a little old-fashioned cottage. It had doors and a hallway, but it was really just a living room. The windows showed a landscape that was more painting than actual window. The grass moved enough to not be still, and the clouds weren't too perfect, but the grass wasn't alive, and the clouds weren't made of rain. There was a couch with a quilt laid over it, a short cushioned stool where Istus sat, and walls covered in tapestries that didn't seem to have tops or bottoms.

"Ah, Taako. You're here. Finally I can push this row down." She carded her deft, slightly raw fingers through the warp, firmly pushing until the weft was straight and snug with the row below it.

"I, uh, I'm guessing you already know everything that's happened," Taako said, gesturing to the tapestry.

She smiled like she knew everything, more than he does, but without any intention to keep it to herself. "Come, sit by me," she said, and she looked like his aunt, who he saw as an endless well of knowledge and guidance, years ago, and Lup, when she's feeling sentimental, and a hint of _Lucretia,_ which was frustratingly poignant and comforting. Maybe a little on-the-nose. She also looked like every statue he's ever seen of her. He wondered if those statues were carved with the eyes and chins of the sculptors' aunts who knew everything and the noses and hair and regal posture of their sisters. He did as she said, sitting cross-legged in front of The Loom.

Istus's tapestries were like no mortal design ever seen, outside of maybe a fiber-themed modern art museum. There was no border, no pattern to the color, no direction it seemed to be going. Some big thinkers on the material plane theorized the tapestries were so alien because they were visualizing something impossibly large. Like a human painting a two-inch portrait of a mountain. Others posited that looking at Istus's tapestry was like looking at the earth from the moon (the _real_ moon, they find themselves needing to clarify) and trying to follow the path of a single fruit fly. Taako assumed it was more of an abstract art kind of thing, where it was a subjective visualization of something that couldn't be seen, but what the fuck did he know? Whatever they were, Istus was the only being that could reliably interpret them "correctly." But she chose not to, most of the time.

"So," Taako said, picking up a cookie. "Any hints on where this is all going?" He knew she wouldn't be able to answer, but it seemed like the thing to say.

She looked at him with an indiscernible smile, and smoothed down an unruly bit of his hair like he was a toddler. "No. You know the rules. I think you're going to be just fine and dandy, though. I say this as a friend, not as a goddess."

Taako huffed. "Okay. Any _hints_ as a friend, not as a goddess?"

She raised a hand to her mouth, laughing softly. "Alright. If you want my honest, mortally-biased opinion? You could be a god of fate."

Taako sulkily took a bite of oatmeal cookie, smooshing his chin into his hand. "I dunno. Like, I see how my story has ties to fate, or whatever, but it's not like I've been controlling fate. It's more like fate's been controlling _me."_

She chuckled at that. "Are the waves ever rough because Poseidon is angry, or is Poseidon angry because the waves are rough?"

Taako groaned. "I think I know what you're trying to say, but it'd be a hell of a lot more helpful if you could just say it."

She raised an eyebrow playfully. "Now, Taako. If I go around saying what I mean all the time, my celestial nature could be compromised. If I claimed that, say, 'I don't control fate, I just weave things and try to help people where I can because I feel like it,' people might stop taking me so seriously."

"So..." He finished off his cookie, biting his thumb thoughtfully. "Do you... Would you say that you... _have_ free will? Like, as a god? Because the implications of everything I've heard thus far are... kind of getting to me." He carded his fingers through his hair, laughing nervously. "I, um... Damn, sorry. I'm not usually this fuckin'... morose, I guess."

"You're worried you'll lose yourself as a god. That you'll forget things about your mortal life."

Taako snorted humorlessly, hugging his knees. "You get that from the tapestry?"

"No, I got that from knowing you and looking at your face."

He picked up another cookie, holding it close to his chest. "Well, you're right. What of it?"

Istus slowed in her weaving. "I'll tell you something that pretty much everyone on your side - or - I should say - the mortal's side - doesn't remember. Long ago, _long_ long ago, goodness I'm old, I used to be a mortal weaver. Istus is a... title, more than anything. I don't remember my name, it wasn't Istus. Istus was the one who told the prophecies, I was the one that wove tapestries and paid the bills and generally lived my life as a human. It was all just me, of course. Looking back, it was probably too much pressure to put on a mortal, especially at that age. But everyone thought I was destined to be a goddess, or maybe I was a goddess in disguise. They looked to me for answers, and I did the best I could from what I could predict and what I could make up. I might've helped some people along in a more material way behind the scenes. So, here I am." She sighed. "I haven't told anyone that in a long time."

"But, wait." He held a finger up, eyebrows furrowed. "If the mortals don't remember-" Look at him, already referring to "the mortals" like they're a totally different species. "-how come you still know? I was under the impression it was a weird 'I only exist because of mortal worship so I only know what they know' kinda... thing."

Istus's hands hovered over the threads that made up the weft of her tapestry, not out of indecision or hesitation, but a pause to breathe. "I've managed to... retain some of my humanity. It's not only the mortals that can know things about us gods. All of us up here have social circles and friendships and rivalries of our own. Most of them are myth-mandated, or make some symbolic sense. I can tell things to other gods, and they can believe them for us, just as a mortal can." Istus wilted a bit. It was strange for Taako to see his sister's 'wilted' face on someone that wasn't her, but its effect was the same. "The Raven Queen doesn't talk to anyone very much. She never has. She had- _has_ and important job to do, and an actually active one, too, not the 'just exist' job a lot of gods have. I love her, it's one of the things keeping me so human. It's one of the things keeping me so divine, despite my small following. And I think she loves me, as much as someone so godlike can love-" She sighed. "I guess my uncertainty in my belief is contributing- Anyway. She hasn't asked for help from any of the other gods. She hasn't shown up in anyone's dreams in a long time. I _told her_ to show up in someone's _dreams._ She still sends vague omens from time to time, but vague omens only work when someone knows what to look for, and how to interpret them. And what they're interpreting is, well, Kravitz. And Lup and Barry."

Taako picked up two oatmeal cookies, eating both of them like a sandwich with no filling. He didn't know where they were going in his ghostly body, but he supposed the cookies probably weren't made of mortal stuff. Taako had no idea how to feel about anything. Taako had no idea how he _did_ feel about anything. He'd probably default to "tired" if he was still a flesh-elf, would probably default to "bored" if he wasn't so invested. He decided he didn't much like the way he was feeling.

Istus spoke again, seemingly for no one's sake. "If I'm being honest, I don't know if retaining some of my humanity is a gift or a curse," she mused, returning to her weaving with a calm vigor.

Taako didn't know what to say to that, so he not-very-subtly changed the topic of conversation. "So, just curious, would you call the Raven Queen a title, too?"

Istus looked at the wall sadly. "Hm. Yes, I thinks so. But she- The Raven Queen is fraying. It's not a stable title to take up. It would take a miracle to keep her around for much longer." A spool of bright thread fell from its place on the top of the loom, hitting her arm as it tumbled to the floor. "Oh, goodness me. That always happens when I say anything about miracles." She picked up the spool, unravelling a length of thread and holding it across her work, comparing the colors.

"Yeah, that's the other thing I was wondering, she can die? Like, even if she's not technically, you know, alive? What's up with that?"

"Yes, of course she can. Death has many meanings, Taako. There's death of the body, which you have quite a bit of first-hand experience with. There's death in the sense of passing from one place to the other, and there are the less mortal-centric ways of dying. There are different types of death for different types of life. You can see gods as immortal all you want, just as you can see your city as immortal, or your stories, or your statues. But everything has the potential to erode away. That's why it's such a precious thing, to find any artifact from a certain length of time ago. Even then, we can never know for certain who made it, and why." She snapped a thin thread apart with her hands, not bothering to grab her scissors. "We don't usually realize this, as we obviously can't remember what's been forgotten to time. But you know this already."

Taako reached for another cookie. Despite having eaten quite a few already, the plate was as full as it had been when he arrived. "You sound like the Raven Queen. You sure you're not a goddess of death?"

Istus grinned. "Fate and death are practically twins, Taako."

The phrase felt oddly pointed in a way he wasn't sure was comforting. He wasn't sure if it was meant to be comforting. He didn't want to dwell on it for too long, so he did what he always did, and made himself a distraction. "So, if you don't 'control fate,' what's the tapestry for? You said you wove when you were alive, what did that have to do with it?"

She shook her head, waving her hand dismissively. "Oh, the weaving thing wasn't really a part of it. I just like asymmetrical geometric patterns, and after I ascended, everyone started trying to pick apart what my work meant. A lot of them got it completely right, even if they wouldn't have when I was alive and weaving them. Everything about being a god is incredibly retroactive. It's a part of why time is so weird for us."

Taako sighed. He had one more question. He wouldn't like the answer, he was sure of that, no matter what it was. He'd be lying if he said it wasn't pretty much the entire reason he came to Istus in the first place. It was already answered by what she'd already said. He could put together a picture out of seemingly disparate pieces. "Could..." He tapped his fingers on his knees. "Could you have stopped me? From dying? Warned me? Something?"

Gentle as a mother combing a child's hair, Istus unspooled a length of thread, smoothing it out and inspecting its color as she went. "You're indescribably lucky, Taako. You were allowed to die _after_ your epilogue. Most are not so fortunate."

Taako huffed. "'Lucky's' a funny way of putting it. You didn't answer the question. Not even in a roundabout way."

"I didn't say you had luck that always turned out in your favor, what most mortals call 'good luck.' I meant you intersect and touch so many threads that were so far away."

"Cool. Also not an answer. Look, I like the vague, draw-your-own-conclusions bullshit as much as anyone, but sometimes an elf just wants a yes or no. _Could you have warned me?"_

Istus didn't look at him. "You were destined to die from the day you were born, Taako. You're not unique in that. You were uniquely able to die from your downfall, specifically, from the moment you were born. Your chances increased when a certain spell backfired. Add in a few other events from your past, and it's given a certain level of irony. Add in other events, and it's given a sort of poignance. At the end of the day, though, that's all retroactive musings. You were not destined to die in any specific way, at any specific date. That being said..."

"You could've warned me," Taako's ears fell. He put the half-eaten cookie back on the silver plate.

Istus said nothing.

Taako didn't know if he wanted his death to be poignant or not. He didn't want his threads tied together in a neat, satisfying bow. A bow was another word for a knot, a knot another word for a tangle, and both different words for _snare._ A knot has a sense of finality to it that he hated. He wasn't final. Never complete. He would never be, he'd see to that. If he was a story, it wasn't over. And yet...

An ending would be stable. He'd never get closure for every single thing that had ever happened to him, but... The thing about unknotted threads is that they fray. They become unusable. They turn into messes of unworkable fiber that could only be hidden or snipped off, leaving a gaping, glaring blank space in their wake. They're discordant notes with no resolution, the lack more gnawing than the build-up. Taako stood, not saying a word, and disappeared, leaving Istus happily working.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all, real note: my mom's sick right now, not entirely sure what it is, it could just be a cold, but it's a bit of a Situation. The next few chapters are well on their way to being finished, so it might not impact the loose weekly-ish schedule I've been keeping up, but yeah.  
> I'd really like your thoughts on what's going on and what's going to happen! I'm curious 😊  
> UPDATE: My mom's covid test came back negative! She's still sick, but it's a huge relief.


	13. Stage 13a: Closing Ceremony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A body is a strange thing, when it's no longer in use.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the unplanned week off! Hope this chapter is comprehensible!  
> Content warning for some descriptions of decomposition. Maybe don't eat while you read this one, cause it's pretty gross.

It was getting close to dinnertime, and Taako was nowhere to be found. This, Kravitz reasoned as he paced absent-mindedly around Lup and Barry's guest bedroom, wasn't as alarming as it could be. He could have simply lost track of time chatting, or maybe time was being weird on the celestial plane right now, as it was wont to do. Nevertheless, Kravitz felt compelled to check up on him. He had enough self-awareness to know it was probably in part because he was newly worried about losing him. As if the laws of the astral sea and the loophole that kept Taako from entering it would somehow change on a dime, and Kravitz would be left to fish him out and run away to live in a catacomb. It was both alarming and unsurprising how ready he was to do so. This worrying was unnecessary, though, because a quick Locate spell put Taako's location at their house, just down the street. Or, a bit below their house. Kravitz frowned and manifested his scythe. He hurried to poke his head into the living room, where Barry was reading on the couch while Davron made a delightful mess of a coloring book. "Hey, Barry? I'm off to fetch Taako. Don't wait up for us."

Barry gave him a thumbs-up, absorbed in his book. Dav looked up without stopping his enthusiastic scribbling and waved at him. Kravitz shook his head fondly and waved back, stepping back into the empty hallway. With a strong arc of his scythe, he sliced open a portal to his basement. He was half-sure of what to expect. Taako was always in the habit of being unpredictable, but unpredictableness is only measured by the inexperienced.

The smell would be terrible, if Kravitz was ametuer enough to give himself a sense of smell whilst in the same room as a days-old corpse. He distantly wondered if Taako could do the same. The basement was just as they had left it when they left the corpse behind, excluding a few additions to the community of spiderwebs. It was dark enough to make darkvision necessary. The glowing, translucent form of Taako was sitting on the floor, legs folded under him like a despondent Narcissus, leaned over the threshold of the freezer, now open with its contents on full display.

Kravitz approached steadily, careful to make his footsteps audible, but not too loud, a delicate balance he'd learned to perfect over the past few years. Taako didn't look up, but one of his ears swiveled in recognition. He had his ghostly hand dipped in the freezer, running it along the body's face. It passed through the discolored flesh like it was nothing. "Kinda self-centered. Just assuming the meat-suit stops living just because we aren't piloting it anymore."

A surprising amount of decay happens in the first few days of a body's demise. Kravitz rarely got to see this stage of decomposition, he didn't stick around long enough to see it on new corpses, and the older corpses were usually months or years in the making. Thank goodness they'd thought to put the body in the freezer they apparently had all this time, or it would've been a gruesome maggot nursery. As it was, Taako's body wasn't as bad off as it would have been in a dank, moist necromancer's lair, but it had still failed a fight with itself that Taako hadn't even realized he'd been fighting his whole life. It was discolored and bloated, and not just because of the anaphylaxis. Froth had begun to dribble from its nose and mouth. Its eyes were wide open, showing all their cloudiness, and how the pupil had faded to the color of clouds before a storm. Despite the changes, it still looked enough like Taako to be viscerally unsettling. He knew if Taako looked like that in life, he would be in the worst health imaginable, and hurting so much. All in all, still one of the loveliest corpses Kravitz had ever seen, but he was biased.

Slowly, methodically, Kravitz sat next to Taako, not touching him, but close enough that Taako could lean into him easily if he wanted to. He did, apparently, as he was lightly pressing himself against Kravitz's side before he'd even settled on the floor, almost unconscious on Taako's part, as natural as a magnet to iron. He didn't break his gaze from the body.

There's a certain sort of wistfulness that the recently deceased get when they see their own bodies for the first time. Kravitz had long since grown used to seeing that look in his line of work. It's one so ephemeral and specific that it defies all description. It's an _"oh"_ in perhaps the purest form. A body is a curious thing. In a way, it represents life, or _a_ life. In a way, it represents death. His reaper form wouldn't be a humanoid skeleton if it didn't. Kravitz remembered the moment he first saw his own body, the feeling of seeing something so human, but having every preconception tell him that _this wasn't a person anymore._ The most unsettling thing about a body isn't the strange colors the skin takes on, or the way everything seemingly paradoxically grows, like a last grisly hurrah before collapsing in on itself. It's the stillness. Like it's been suspended in time while the rest of the world, the flies, the beetles, the various liquids pooling around it, all move on without it. More object than person, more place than object.

Simply asking Taako if he was okay was a fool's errand. He could deflect the sincerest of questions without so much as a thought. In Kravitz's experience, it was best to let Taako set the tone for the prologue of any heavy conversation, and let it inevitably develop into something more substantial when Taako let himself talk for long enough. "What are you thinking about?" he asked.

Taako weakly exhaled through his nose, closing his eyes slowly and leaning further into Kravitz's shoulder. "Thinking about hosting my funeral. Reckon I should put _Another One Bites the Dust_ on the soundtrack?" His voice was low, less energetic than it usually was when he was joking, but clearly trying to breach that tense surface. Kravitz decided to humor him. No sense in dragging the mood down further than it already was.

"You're not going to let _me_ host your funeral? When I am so rarely graced with the occasion to throw a party, and this particular type of party is exactly in my wheelhouse? I never even lived long enough to host my own, you know."

That got a genuine laugh out of Taako, as shaky as it was. "Maybe we could do a double feature: wedding plus funeral. That'd be goth as fuck."

Kravitz couldn't help but smile and savor the surge of joy in his chest when Taako mentioned their future wedding. It was silly, he knew, they were practically already married and all that, but the ceremony of it felt important. "You _do_ look stunning in black."

"I look stunning in everything. Fuckin' gorgeous right now even with hands bigger than horseshoe crabs and spit coming out of my nose," Taako said, gesturing to his ghostly face.

Kravitz glanced at Taako curiously. He couldn't see anything of the sort on him. He'd stayed pretty consistent in what he looked like. True, he'd sometimes spontaneously change outfits when Kravitz wasn't looking, but he hadn't taken on the decayed look of most ghosts he'd seen in his time. He hummed out a subtle True Sight, and though he could see his own hand turn skeletal as expected, Taako didn't change at all. "Hey, just curious, what do you think you look like right now?"

Taako glanced at him strangely. "Uh, like that." He gestured toward the corpse in the freezer. "Do I not look like that to you?"

Kravitz shook his head in wonder. "You look the same as you did a week ago. Excluding the overall, uh, ghostliness."

"Huh," Taako said. He studied the back of his own hand, touched his face with a delicacy usually reserved for intricate meringue statues. Taako saying "huh" was always a sign of something. Whether it was something good or something bad was up to interpretation. It was rarely said to be dismissive, as many people take the word to be, if Taako wanted to be dismissive, he would gleefully do so in more than just one syllable. It was more often a sign of revelation. A mindless thing to fill a silence while he used his brain to do better things than think up a response. Kravitz's go-to for these times was to let him think, and be there if he spiraled.

"That's not _me,_ right?" he asked suddenly, pointing at the body. "It's not. _I'm_ me. I don't need any, like, cells or whatever to be _me."_

Kravitz took Taako's unnaturally warm hand in his, squeezing it reassuringly. "No, you don't. You're right here. So am I. I'm here, not several feet under some overlapping cemetery in some ruins miles away."

Taako raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, sure. _But..."_ he lead pointedly.

_"But_ I think bodies are still important. Even if they aren't us, after we die, they still represent us. And they _were_ us for so long. It's hard to adjust to something new."

Taako thought it over. "Yeah, that makes sense. It's not, like, a big deal, though, right? Like, it shouldn't be. I've-" He sighed in frustration, lightly tugging at his hair. "I've _seen_ dead bodies before. Hell, I've _made_ a few of them! In a lot more gruesome ways than this one! So why..." He furrowed his brow in something like confusion and distress. He was glowing brightly, so bright it was getting difficult to make out the details of his face. "Why now? Why _this_ one? Is it just because that used to be me?"

Kravitz didn't entirely know what to say. This was entirely new, he had no idea what Taako could be feeling right now. He could take a stab and say "distressed," but that was such a broad, unspecific word. He pulled Taako into an embrace, Keeping him close to his quietly beating heart. After a moment, Taako returned it, wrapping arms made up of misty electricity and feeling like warm, soft cinderblocks around him. He closed his eyes and buried his face in Taako's thick hair. They both let their shoulders rise and fall with breathing that didn't move air, and held each other with flesh that only existed if someone believed it did. They were both so _warm._

"You know," Taako mumbled after a while. "A funeral actually might not be such a bad idea. And not just as an excuse to throw a party where everyone has to adhere to our billiard room's aesthetic."

Kravitz smiled into Taako's forehead. "I know a lovely spot in the Astral Plane, if you'd like. On land of course. Unless you'd prefer to be buried on the material plane. It's your choice."

"Hm. Yeah, that sounds nice," he said, nuzzling one last time into Kravitz before reluctantly pulling away. "If my soul can't rest in the Astral Plane, I guess my body can." Taako sighed and painstakingly stood up, bringing Kravitz along with a hand on his arm. "Come on. You cut the portal, I'll levitate this guy and call up Lup."

***

The spot was far away from the palace, between a beautiful ancient elven statue carved by a long-forgotten artist, and, appropriately enough, a dilapidated marble mausoleum. It took some trial and error to keep the edges from falling in on themselves, but, with the help of magic, it was relatively easy to carve out a hole in the colorful glass shards and smooth runestones of the beach of the Astral Plane. After the five-foot mark, things started to get a little blurry, like the artifacts were rejecting their gazes, and at the seven-foot mark, they could barely see where any two stones ended. The bottom seemed endless, despite their measurement's insistence to the contrary, like it was sinking, and they could only catch a sense of its movement. They opted not to use a coffin.

By the time Lup and Barry got there, the body was already laying in the pit, still uncovered and unaffected by the weird blurriness going on around it, but still laying seven feet below the beach. Lup paused when she arrived, took one look at Taako, and rushed over to him to catch him in a hug. There was a bit of expected token petulance, but Taako had no trouble wrapping his arms around his sister and leaning into her embrace.

"Okay!" Lup said when she pulled away. "We doing anything fancy, or just chuckin' and coverin'?"

Taako scrunched up his nose in indignation. " _Chuckin' and coverin'?_ No one says that!"

Lup stuck out her tongue at him. _"I_ did. I can say unique things. Not everything I say has to be a reference or turn of phrase."

Kravitz chuckled. "I think a quick standard funeral will suffice."

"Maybe we can do something bigger for the wake, later," Barry chimed in.

"Hell yeah. But don't anyone dare make any sappy speeches. It's my party and I get to pick the tone."

Kravitz smiled. "Of course."

There was something so distinctly _mortal_ about a funeral. The birds, in their hundred-year run, stopped doing them almost entirely after a certain number of decades. In Kravitz's reaper-self, death was an event that took as long as it took for someone's brain to stop sparking off, and as long as it took for him to pick up the life that was left behind. This was a clinical way to look at death, he knew, and a bit antithetical to his whole existence as a personification, but it wouldn't do to give a funeral to every corpse he came across, no matter how much he might want to. Once his scythe had done its job, once death (the action) was complete, it was out of his hands.

It used to be that a person hadn't died to everyone who knew them until they could wear black for a few months. Or until the bush planted above their grave started flowering. Or until the last person who'd been impacted by them, no matter how indirectly, had also died. Kravitz wasn't sure he believed in that last one, if only because it made his job feel unappreciated. For a lot of people nowadays, it was shorter, a person wasn't dead until their body was looked at, and then put in a place where it never would be again. Or, until some science-type with a shovel came across it, but that was a future conundrum.

A pile of rocks and glass stood high next to the pit. "Would you like to do the honors?" Kravitz asked, offering Taako a newly-materialized shovel.

Taako hesitated, then glanced at Lup. "You wanna help with this?"

She smiled. "Of course."

Together, the twins took the shovel, and dug it into the base of the pile, picking up a swathe of stones. They tossed it into the grave, watching it rain down and hit the body's feet. "One down, a fuckton more to go," Lup murmured.

Taako looked like he wanted to suggest just using magic, but it didn't feel right. The group of four all stared pensively into the grave as the twins covered the corpse more and more. It seemed too long and too soon that only a shovelful more was needed to render the body invisible. Lup's grasp on the handle slipped, making Taako's slip with her. A sudden sob escaped her throat, her face newly flushed and hot. She put a shaking hand to her eyes, and it came back wet. Another sob, more congested that time. "Well. Wouldja look at that." A smile crawled and shriveled on her lips.

Taako tightened his grip around the shovel. "You okay, Lup?"

"Yeah... Yeah, I'm good. I'm-" She let out a bark of shaky laughter. "I'm alright, Taako. You?"

He smiled in a way he hoped was reassuring. "Yeah. Same here."

They tossed one last shovelful before declaring that they would just shove the pile into the pit with magic.

When there was no trace there had ever been a grave in the first place, Lup dusted off her hands and looked to Kravitz. "Are we done here?" Her eyes were still a little puffy around the edges.

Kravitz looked in the distance, where the Astral Palace loomed comfortingly. "I think we have one last thing to do here. I'll need you both to help with this."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are better than any Candlenights present 😊


	14. Stage 13b Burial Ceremony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A soul is a strange thing, when it doesn't belong to a body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops I guess I'm on a two-week schedule now :P   
> Honestly though, I just got Hades during the steam winter sale and I've been playing too much to work on anything

"I'm serious, I can wait on the beach if you want. Or I can, you know, fade out of here and into there, I'm getting pretty good at that." Taako's voice was pitched anxiously high, and he fiddled with the rings on his hands. The group stood before the front doors to the astral palace, Kravitz with his scythe drawn, Barry with a flickering Light spell at the end of his wand, and Lup with her cloak wrapped around her shoulders.

Lup smiled, nudging her brother with her shoulder in a way she hoped was comforting. "Nah, babe, we need you here, too. You can be our witness."

Taako gave Lup a smile, a bit shallower than the one she offered. He couldn't remember the palace being so empty-looking. It had windows, of course, every palace should have windows, but they never showed what was on the other side of themselves, like they were perpetually fogged over and no lights were on inside.

Kravitz couldn't remember the palace being so big, or the doors being so heavy. It had always been big, but it used to seem explorable. Barry couldn't remember the palace being so dimly-lit. The Astral Plane was in a sort of eternal moonless, starless dusk, but it was always somehow easy to see, even without light sources. Barry lifted his wand, nervously squinting around his lack of darkvision. Lup didn't seem to notice, bouncing idly on her heels. Taking a deep breath that he didn't need and needed more than anything, Kravitz put a fleshless hand in front of him, bones clacking on the handle. The wooden, stone, thought, whatever-material doors seemed to open with no pressure, swinging silently outward with a gust of air. They revealed a long hallway, completely unadorned by any portraits or architectural flourishes. There were no doors, except the ones they'd just opened, and one looming at the end of the hallway, tiny with distance. Lup's shoes clicked and echoed on the hard floor, despite the fact that she was wearing sensible rubber-soled boots. The other three in the party followed behind her, each at different levels of reluctance.

It didn't seem like they should have gotten to the other side of the hall as quickly as they did. Barry could even swear he felt a flash of vertigo as he found himself staring at the door to the Raven Queen's throne room. It seemed both smaller and larger than any of them remembered it to be.

"Well," Lup stated. "Last chance to turn back."

"Last chance to live in a moment when this isn't a _thing,"_ Kravitz said. "We could never turn back.

Lup nodded obligingly. "Any final words of wisdom, boss man?" Kravitz rolled his eyes.

"Be careful," Taako blurted out. He bit the inside of his cheek sheepishly at having somewhat dried out the tone Lup had tried to set.

Kravitz smiled at him affectionately, wishing he would reach out and do _something_ involving physical contact to reassure Taako. "I don't think she has any intention of hurting us, dear, but it's appreciated."

Taako nodded, a sense of finality in the set of his shoulders. "I'll wait out here."

"You can meet us outside," Kravitz offered. "I know the Raven Queen's throne room may not be the _best_ place for a ghost."

Lup didn't bother knocking, pushing the tall slab of stone with a gusto, sending it lazily careening into the wall with a silent impact. Taako didn't disappear so much as he _was not there_ anymore. The Raven Queen sat on a throne that faced a massive window overlooking the twinkling lights of the sea on the western wall, putting the Raven Queen's face in profile, from the party's vantage point. She didn't need to look at them with her eyes to see that they were there.

**_You've arrived._** Something in the air whispered that she was smiling.

"Yeah," Barry said, returning the smile. "We have." Kravitz's grip on his scythe tightened, not in fear or hesitation, but certainty.

_**Right.**_ The Raven Queen stood to a height not much taller than Kravitz. It might have been her "full height," or it might not have been. It was strangely easy to look at her, to discern what she looked like. What that _was_ still varied with all three people in the room, but she didn't vary as much within the three images. She was almost solidified, possibly the worst thing for a god to be. She waved a hand, and the window in front of her swung open on not-there hinges, revealing a balcony built just above the surface of the Astral Sea. _**It's now or never, as they say.**_

The three reapers followed her out onto the balcony, watching as the railing around it disappeared, and the floor widened to accommodate them. The queen's face was pointed firmly towards the sea, but it was hard to say she was looking at it. The air was just the right kind of cool, and it was humid enough to compliment the sea, but not humid enough to be uncomfortable. There was no ambient sound, not even the sounds of breath and heartbeats that tended to make themselves known at a certain level of silence.

Kravitz felt a tap on his right shoulder. Lup and Barry were to his left. "You still need me here, right, hon?" Kravitz spun to see Taako, standing with his hip cocked to the side like he'd been there the whole time.

"Of course," Kravitz said, almost automatically.

"Alright! The whole gang's here," Lup said, clapping her hands in front of her. "So, we can get started, right?"

"No rush, though," Barry added.

The Raven Queen stood, "back" straight as a rope pulled taut, in front of them like a monolith. Kravitz shifted his weight from foot to foot. "Would you like to help with the honors?" he asked, glancing at Lup and Barry, nudging the handle of his scythe in their direction.

Lup hesitated, hand slowly reaching toward the offered handle, but pulled away before she could give off the impression of commitment. "Nah. This is _your_ area."

"Besides, you knew her for longer," Barry said, offering up the kind of reassuring expression only the parent of a very young child could give. "It's alright, it's only fair."

Kravitz nodded, humming to keep himself calm. He took a step closer to the Raven Queen, needlessly readjusting his grip. He gazed at the Raven Queen's back, intellectually totally ready, but apparently his body hadn't gotten the memo.

**_Would you like me to say something existentially enlightening or reassuring?_** She asked, and her voice was coming from the body in front of him. It was strange in how normal it was.

He let out a laugh that was more exhale than sound. "Admittedly, yes."

She made the sound of sighing. **_I was hoping you wouldn't. I don't have a lot left in me. I've said all that I could say with the lot I was given. The rest is just reinterpretation and rehashing beyond any resemblance to what I was. It's sustainable, but only if people are interested in what I had to say in a certain way. And, with the new ways of life and death, and the new views on everything I've represented, I'm just not interesting to worship anymore._** She patted his cheek with a comforting clawed hand. **_Savor this quickly, because it will be the only time in your career when you reap someone who's_** **ready.** She gave off the feeling of setting her jaw, and continued to stare ahead, apparently finished with her piece. She folded her wing-arms in front of her patiently.

Kravitz adjusted his grip one last time, steeling himself. The weight of his scythe was familiar in all senses of the word. A scythe couldn't be wielded like a sword. It couldn't be wielded like an "extension of the arm." It was a tool, not a weapon. But a weapon was also a tool, wasn't it? It was an extension of a will. Kravitz had retrod this line of thinking a million times over, and he would do it a million times again, there was no point in coming to a conclusion now. The point was that it was sharp and it could catch things, and it was significant, and it was _him._ He swung, and he caught a glimpse, at the last second before the blade made contact, of an eye, a _human_ eye, dark brown, and obscured with feathers. He didn't have time to think about this revelation before there was the sound of a dozen stems, a dozen strands of yarn, a dozen of _whatever metric makes sense to use_ being severed. It was a strangely quiet noise.

The Raven Queen dissolved under the blade, a dozen ravens escaping from her dark visage and flying in one direction each, cawing with fervor. Gods' souls were apparently a lot larger, but proportionally less dense than a mortal's. It glowed like any other, but not quite as brightly, and the threads and knots of it were less tightly interlocked. Most souls were about the size of a skull, but hers was easily as large as a boulder.

Reverently, with all the care he could offer, Kravitz cupped the soul in his skeletal palms, feeling the faint pop of static against his bones. A hand slid on his shoulder, alerting him to Barry's presence beside him. He, Lup, and Taako all gazed with him in wonder at the only god's soul they would probably ever see. Objectively, it wasn't a more beautiful or awe-inspiring sight than any other soul, it wasn't too different from the souls they saw every day, not different from the souls that held their own bodies. But experiences like this could never be judged objectively, could they. Kravitz knelt for his queen one last time, tipping her into the clear, dark water, and watched her meander downwards, making a new dot in a line, a new indistinguishable, magnificent light buried under miles of water.

They all looked out at the astral sea. Some artistic depictions of the sea were full-to-bursting with souls, all huddled together like cranberries in a lake, or melded together until no one could tell where one soul ended and another began. It made sense, considering the sheer amount of souls resting in it. Other depictions were inky and almost opaque, death as a location being stifling and thick. But most of it was just dark water, to Kravitz. There was so much empty space to be filled, but the dots of light, no matter how deep and dim, all made themselves known so clearly. "Wish I had a star chart," Taako commented. "I think I can make out some constellations."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two more ceremonies and two more chapters to go!  
> I'm sure you'll be happy to know that I had to edit a line comparing the astral sea to "a bathtub full of fantasy orbeez" because it kind of messed with the tone, but I needed to put it out into the world somehow.


	15. Stage 13c: Joining Ceremony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love may be described in many ways. Ennobling, maddening, completing, divine, even.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops! Well, I promised myself I'd get this out before February, and according to my time zone, I did that with 42 minutes to spare, so at least there's that.

In the end, Taako and Kravitz decided on a quiet, private ceremony in their dining room, mere hours after Taako's funeral. So private, in fact, that they didn't bother to call in a witness, other than themselves. Kravitz had spread out their good tablecloth, the one that Istus had gifted to them as a housewarming gift, with flowers and vines lining the edges. Taako was haphazardly arranging an assortment of candles, both scented and not, along the table's length. A bottle of naturally-aged, carefully saved wine stood expectantly at the center of it all.

"You've got to have some rings squirreled away somewhere, right?" Taako asked as he pinched and pulled on each candle wick, coaxing flames out of the fiber.

Kravitz chuckled. "Am I that predictable?"

Taako scoffed. "Uh, ch'yeah. You're _absolutely_ the kind of guy to keep wedding rings hidden away in your sock drawer for years."

Evidently, he wasn't entirely wrong. Kravitz smiled fondly. He'd been doing that near-constantly since Taako had pulled him into the room and told him in no uncertain terms that 'now feels right.' He'd said it just as Kravitz was preparing the exact same sentiment.

"Not quite." He flexed his hand and a small tear formed in the air, just big enough to reach in and pull out a little locked chest, jewel-encrusted and painted in shiny lacquer. It was one of those jewelry boxes with several cubic inches' worth of space to fill, and yet were only used to store a single necklace, or a bracelet, or, in this case, two rings, wrapped in a silk handkerchief.

Taako clicked his tongue in realization. "Ah, pocket dimension. Didn't think to look there."

Kravitz dispelled the miniature portal, keeping the box close to his chest, but not so close to be obvious. "So you admit you went looking?"

Taako winked at him, gesturing with a flourish to ignite the last candle. "I'd never claim otherwise, babe."

The little box loomed at Kravitz in a way nothing small enough to fit in a semi-large pants pocket should be able to. Or, more accurately, it wasn't the box, it was what lay inside it, the possibilities surrounding them, the permanence in their soldering. The rings were, in a word, careful. The bands were fit to the last fraction of a millimeter. A careful consideration was given to Kravitz's skeleton form. A careful consideration was given to the likely, but presently fruitless possibility that Taako's hands would change with age. Kravitz had thought for awhile about getting an old ring, from his own time, so old it transcended "antique" and cemented itself as "ancient." Taking something that was already there and making it their own had its own special appeal. He might have gone down that route if Taako wasn't so mind-bogglingly one-of-a-kind. If he hadn't wanted them to be perfectly fit to measure in visuals, as well as size. Surely, there could be no love more unique, more powerful than theirs, and the symbol of that love should be something _resounding._ This, of course, was all ego, Kravitz knew. He only thought of their love as so powerful because he was one half of it. A fire will burn hotter for those inside the house, and all that. But damn if he wasn't right in the center of this particular fire and savoring every second he was enraptured by it.

He'd spent hours pouring himself into books about jewelry and design, working and reworking at his vision, scrapping it and starting over. He'd thought about Taako, what exactly he would want, what would make his eyes go soft at the edges and let out that little "oh" he did when he was truly in awe of something. What moments he would want to be reminded of when he caught a glimpse of it in passing, what stone would be precious enough to make him set it in the safest place possible while he cooked, what would bring him comfort and security in any regretful stretch of time when Kravitz was pulled away from him, what would stand out and fit perfectly into Taako's vast and colorful wardrobe. The one he made for his own hand was a lot less thought out, mostly going off of what would match Taako's.

The rings were careful, but they were not cautious. They were more than a bit ostentatious, a smidge tacky, and it would be a nightmare to pair them with anything. They were beautiful. Kravitz knew they were beautiful. Kravitz knew there was a strong possibility that Taako would agree that they were beautiful. And yet...

"I, uh..." Kravitz was snapped out of his spiraling by Taako's uncharacteristically unsure voice. "I also maybe have some rings, too? Y'know, just because. We can have, like, options." He waved a hand, partially to fidget, partially to teleport his own little box into his palm. This one was a more standard rectangular, sleek jewelry box, with a velvety inner lining and removable lid. Hastily, Taako wrenched the lid off and shoved the box in Kravitz's direction, ears twitching. "Yeah, I made them myself, so... they're probably not exactly professional quality? But hey, they're Taako Originals, so they're definitely _good_ quality. I actually had to transmute some of my old rings for them, but don't feel bad about that, they were cheap and shitty anyway, and they always left those green stains on my fingers? Anyway. I, uh, hope you like them. Or, yours. You don't have to like the one I made for me, you're not gonna be wearing that one."

Kravitz barely heard Taako's nervous rambling over his focus on the perfect shining rings nestled next to each other on top of soft black velvet. They were... elegant was a word. So were "detailed" and "surprisingly understated." He could tell which one was his immediately, by how quickly his eyes found themselves drawn to it. There was no doubt in Kravitz's mind that he could look at it for hours at a time and never be bored with it. Yet, from a distance, from the perspective os someone not paying attention, it was so simple-looking. Dignified and stylish, but simple. It took a moment to realize the other ring in the box, Taako's, was made to match, completely going against Taako's usual jewelry standards. A laugh bubbled up from within Kravitz's chest. He placed his own jewelry box on the table to deal with later.

“When did you make these?” he asked, voice as light as his head and heart.

Taako shrugged, twirling a lock of hair between his fingers. “Recently? Definitely _after_ I died. It was kinda just a spur-of-the-moment type thing. I know, you probably had yours stashed and ready by our first anniversary.”

He laughed a bit again. "Oh, they were stashed, but I don't think they were ready."

Kravitz tore his gaze from the perfect ring, and onto Taako’s face, the other thing he could stare at for years and never be bored. Kravitz squeezed Taako’s hand, bringing his face closer to his, hesitated, then rerouted his lips to Taako’s forehead. Taako curled his fingers between Kravitz’s, and he could feel him smile against his collarbone.

"D'you think we should still get a real marriage license, too? For the tax benefits?"

Kravitz smirked into Taako’s hair. “Where we’re going, darling, we won’t need tax benefits.”

Taako burst out laughing, loud and high, playfully swatting at his face. "Dork."

A certain warmth blossomed in Kravitz’s chest, not the unnatural warmth of blood starting to circulate through his dead body, but the completely average, aching warmth that living people felt. How wonderful, how confoundingly implausible to love an entire person! An entire life! In all his years of being a reaper, he'd been well acquainted with the viewpoint that a life was no more real than the rules it made up, no more than a fluctuating list and a projection, a pile of actions, and yet he loved one. He loved a pile of actions and words and sensory inputs with such intensity that his dead heart had started beating. And maybe that's what made him a person. Kravitz was Death, and Death was a lot of things. But he was also so much else, now. He was an overly-dramatic antagonist, a friend, a tentative uncle, a fondly exasperated boss, a fiance, a _husband,_ soon.

Taako coughed, hiding a grin behind his hand. “So. Uh, I was thinking we could do a big party-wedding later, just for the heck of it. Any excuse to eat cake, right?”

Kravitz assumed he probably looked a bit like a fool, with how much he was smiling. He found he didn't much care. "Sounds lovely. I admit I want to be a bit selfish with our more emotional declarations of love, though."

"'S not selfish if it's with another person, babe."

"You have a point."

Taako reluctantly pulled his head away, glancing at Kravitz's jewelry box, which seemed to glow in the warm light of the candles surrounding it. "Can I-?"

It would have been ridiculous to refuse him, Kravitz knew. "Of course." That didn't stop the slight tremble in his heart.

Taako flipped open the latch keeping the lid firmly over the box's contents. There was a terrible moment between the opening of the box and the reaction when everything hung in the air, like the second before wings opened, and there was nothing keeping him in any solid place.

_"Oh, Krav."_ Taako's hand immediately went to hover over the one intended for him, and suddenly Kravitz was _there._

"Is it good?" Kravitz blurted out at the same time Taako said "It's _so good."_ They both caught each other's eye, then shared a laugh, partially for themselves, partially for the other, mostly for the air between them.

“Seriously, though, Krav, you really outdid yourself here,” Taako said, picking the small band up with his thumb and forefinger. He hummed, popping his hip to the side and squinting at it through the candlelight. “Hmm, I wanna put it on _now,_ but we probably gotta _say stuff_ to each other, first.”

“We don’t necessarily _need_ to. We can just put them on, seal it with a kiss, and call it a night.” Even as Kravitz said it, he knew it wouldn't go that way. The ceremony was too important. People wear black in order to mourn, people say nice speeches and wear white and rings in order to dignify their happiness.

“Hmm. No, we gotta. Taako’s feeling real inspired and if I don’t say stuff now, I’ll never get around to it.”

Kravitz chuckled. "Fair enough."  


Taako’s eyes took in their familiar dining room. “Wish we had a bit more ambiance. I guess that’s what we get for not hiring a decorator. Or a band.”

“Hold on.” Kravitz pointed out the archway separating the dining room from the living room. Soft piano music wafted through the rooms, the keys pressing themselves down, plucking out a beautiful unfamiliar melody.

Taako smiled, lip curling up to show his teeth. “Perfect. You go first.”

"I thought you wanted to say stuff now."

"I do. I just... want to say it now, later."

"Alright."

Kravitz called upon his memory, to the lines he had written nowhere but his mind and rehearsed silently over and over until they became instinctual thoughts. He had no idea of whether they would be instinctual to say. “I suppose I’ll start with ‘I love you.’ And I know a ceremony isn’t going to really change how much I love you, but I want this evening to be a time to linger on that love, and I want it to be something happy to look back on.”

“No need to sell it, my man, I’m already hooked,” Taako said, a bit quieter than Kravitz would expect, mostly just to say something.

Kravitz laughed fondly, pushing through with little pause. “There are a lot of people who believe in me as the Grim Reaper, as Death. For a long time, it was only myself and my queen who believed in me as Kravitz. And that was enough, but...” He clasped warm hands around Taako’s. “My heart beats, now. You, and everything and everyone you’ve introduced me to, make me more alive than I thought I’d ever be again.”

“Fuck. That’s- shit, that’s so sappy. You been thinking about that one for a while?”

Kravitz smiled even higher, if such a thing was possible. “I love you, Taako. I love you so much I don’t think I can ever effectively put into words just how much I love you, but I promise that I’ll keep trying, I’ll keep saying it, for as long as we’re together. Which is, hopefully, just short of forever.” Feeling a bit spontaneous in his haze of sentimentality, Kravitz brought Taako’s hands to his lips and kissed them gently.

Taako took a shaky breath, blinking rapidly. “Okay.” He cleared his throat. “Okay. Cool, cool. Krav? I’m gonna need you to stay quiet for a minute, ‘cause Taako’s about to say some embarrassing sentimental shit that’s never leaving this room, and I _know_ when I say stuff like ‘I know I don’t say ‘I love you’ as often as I should,’ you’ll swoop in with your stupidly understanding ‘You say it with your actions and that’s more than enough for me’ crap, and I just need to get through this before all the _feelings_ make my head explode.”

Kravitz hushed a witty retort that threatened its way up his throat. He mimed zipping his lips, expectant.

Taako inhaled, letting the useless, comforting reflex in to relax him. “Back when I had… forgotten, I wasn’t used to people loving me. I was used to people loving certain _versions_ of me, these… masks I made for myself. And, honestly, that was fine. That was still kind of _me,_ I _made_ those masks myself, but it kind of messes with you after a while, you know? And I wanted… I wanted to be honest with you, when we first started off, I wanted to be open, and do the whole ‘relationship’ thing right. When… When I took a layer of that mask off, I honestly expected you to stop liking me, but you didn’t. And when I changed, I expected our relationship to change too, but it didn’t, because you just kept loving me. And those times when I don’t feel like myself, you keep loving me.” He pursed his lips, giving Kravitz’s hand a squeeze.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is… Thanks. For l-loving me. I think… life isn’t just worth living because of other people, life _is_ other people. ‘Souls are just bonds knitted together’ and all that. And your bond, your _love_ is like, the one constant, stable thing I can cling to, and that helps make me a better person.” He cleared his throat. “So, uh, yeah. Wanna kiss about it?”

At some point, tears had started streaming down Kravitz's face. "More than anything. But-" He blinked rapidly as he retrieved both ring boxes. "I think we both worked really hard on these."

Taako blinked rapidly, too. “Shit, yeah. Here.” It wasn’t a graceful slide, when Taako twisted the ring he made around Kravitz’s finger, but it was earnest, and it was _on him._ Kravitz’s own hands trembled a bit as he did the same for Taako, almost going skeletal. But it was on him, and it was something that Kravitz made. He couldn’t be happier.

They didn’t waste any more time. They kissed, and it was like their first kiss all over again. It was their first kiss since Taako’s death, and something in the air said it would be their last in this state. A tingle, like gentle painless pins-and-needles spread from their lips to the tips of their fingers, before shifting to something… more. It was then that Kravitz realized Taako was becoming _alive._ Very alive, practically more alive than he’d been before his death. There was more weight to the hand resting on his shoulder, more of a grip, though he hadn’t done anything to cinch it. They weren’t floating, but Kravitz’s feet did seem a lot less stuck to the ground. Nothing mattered, not gravity, not the space physical objects took up, not the floor below or the ceiling above. Just him and Taako, and him-and-Taako, and this fantastical moment.

It might have been hours, days, or just seconds before they parted. Time didn’t seem very important, either.

Taako’s eyes darted around the room, at himself, at things Kravitz couldn’t hope to see. “Hachi machi. So, there’s _officially_ a new god in town, huh?” He was faintly hysterical, mostly just giddy, clutching Kravitz’s shoulders like they were a cliff’s edge. This had the added benefit of keeping Kravitz from dispersing “I guess Istus was right. And becoming Death’s husband just put all the rest of that shit into place.”

“I think I’m more a god of Dying, rather than Death? But yeah, it still works.” Kravitz was equally hysterical, an emotion he’d grown accustomed to having around Taako. Everything was light, both in the not-heavy sense and in the bright sense.

They both startled as Kravitz's stone of farspeech lit up and buzzed furiously from his pocket. Lup's voice broke through their moment.

"Hey! Uh, what the fuck?"

The two of them shared a look, part trepidation, part terror. Kravitz gingerly removed his stone from his pocket, putting it on the table between them, raising his eyebrows at Taako.

"Uh, hey, Lup," Taako said, voice breaking.

"Taako? Is that you? Wait, can't you not use stones of farspeech as a ghost?"

Taako shot a look of alarm at Kravitz. "Well, you see, I'm not really a ghost anymore? Uh, some stuff happened."

"Yeah, no shit some stuff happened. I have a feeling the weird shit that's happening on our end has to do with the weird shit you're doing on your end. So, again, I say, what the fuck?"

"What exactly _is_ happening on your end?" Kravitz cut in, hoping to get some kind of understanding going.

"I don't know, but Barry and I are... different? Like, more-" She cut herself off. "What did you do?"

A realization sparked within Kravitz's mind. He turned to Taako, voice hopefully low enough to not reach the stone. "You're twins. Where one goes, the other follows."

Taako's eyes widened in recognition. "Oh. Dang. Hey, Lulu? Uh, I think this is a conversation we'll need to have in-person. Long story short, you and Barry might also be gods now? Actually, yeah. I can see it- Yeah, you and Barry are gods now. Dang, it makes a lot of sense when you _see_ it like that. Uh, we'll go over to your place when we can. Don't get your hopes up, it's our wedding night. Anyway! Bye!" Taako cut off an indignant exclamation by quickly turning the stone completely off and sliding it to one end of the table. "So much for a private ceremony," Taako muttered, leaning his back against Kravitz's chest.

"She would have found out soon, anyway."

Taako uncorked the wine bottle in the center of the table, cleaning its dusty neck with his shirt sleeve. “I’m gonna need this. Can gods get drunk? Oh, who am I kidding, of course gods can get drunk. I’ve _met_ Pan,” Taako rambled as he poured two glasses.

Kravitz smiled as he gazed at his husband, graciously accepting his glass. On any other occasion, if they’d aged it four hundred years more, the wine still wouldn’t have tasted as good as it did in that moment. Of its ingredients, it tasted less like the grapes that went in it, and more like the time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One! More! To! Go!

**Author's Note:**

> I super promise not all the chapters will be borderline-essays of internal monologues about the nature of death as a personification in culture. We'll get some actual dialogue in here soon, don't you worry. Next chapters will also (probably) be a bit longer.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Honeyed Dead](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27298486) by [WaltzQueen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaltzQueen/pseuds/WaltzQueen)




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